


fly high

by lanaboke



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Disabilities, EXO - Freeform, Explicit Language, M/M, Paralysis, Slow Burn, kpop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanaboke/pseuds/lanaboke
Summary: "why do you make me feel this way?"in which baekhyun is a crippled soon-to-be 18 year old who realizes his life is changing fast when at a library, he meets this tall boy, the almost complete opposite of himself.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Oh Sehun
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	fly high

**Author's Note:**

> \- for jade and kara  
> tw // disabilities, suicide, death, strong language
> 
> "fly high" playlist by lanaboke on itunes

i remember the last time i was able to walk.

it was a long time ago, when i was about five. 

my brother, my parents, and i, we all went camping for a weekend because my dad wanted to take me and my brother hunting for the first time. “it’s a family tradition,” he said to us that morning, not even thinking about the possible chance of one of us getting shot in the spine. 

after an hour of searching the woods, i saw a deer. it was the most majestic creature i had ever seen, it was . . . real life bambi.

i stepped closer, a twig snapped underneath my shoe, and then, the deer shot up its head real quick, staring right at me. i slowed my breathing, staying as still as i possibly could. 

before i even felt it hit my spine, there was a gunshot, and i arched my back, falling onto the ground, and the deer, it fell with me.

the next thing i knew, i woke up at the hospital, and i could no longer feel my legs. i was paralyzed, from the lower back and down. just because my dad got the aiming wrong and shot me instead of the deer, even though the bullet went right through my skin, muscles, organs, spine, and hit the deer as well.

ever since then, i’ve been stuck in a wheelchair. i stopped going to public school, church, to stores, to the point where i haven’t left the house in almost ten years.

“baekhyun-ah, it’s time for breakfast.”

i opened my eyes, though i wasn’t even asleep to begin with. my eyes faced the paint decaying wall, my bed right against it. i turned slowly onto my back, looking over to the door to my room, as if i was expecting him to still be there.

i sat up, and i raised my hand to swift my bangs to the side out of my eyes. it was dim in my room, except for just this one vertical line on the wall, the light reflecting from the window through the dark curtains. 

“shit — what’s that smell?”

i sniffed, like some animal, trying to detect what that smell was. i turned and sniffed again. it smelt like bacon, and sausage ㅡ ugh, i _hate_ sausage. 

my hands gripped my thighs gently but strongly, swinging my legs over to the side of the bed. a cane sits against my bed, slanted but still. i grabbed it, and i reached it to hook the curved part onto the wheelchair next to my dresser. i pull it over, and lift myself carefully and place myself into the wheelchair.

my hands reach down to the wheels on both sides and i roll out of my bedroom. i turn and roll down the empty hallway. i always found it weird on how there were no framed photos on the wall like other families. i guess because the only photos of the family is either at the hospital, before my parents’ divorce, and/or before the incident. 

“you ready to eat?”

there stood my older brother, the only family i have left. my parents aren’t dead, they just divorced and both moved out of the house. my brother, he stayed to take care of me, since i was sure that my parents were tired of me.

though, i didn’t really ask them much to do anything for me. i know how to bathe myself, i know how to cook, clean, take care of myself. i don’t know exactly why they _both_ left, but to an extent, it’s better for me.

i nod my head, “if there’s enough.” 

my brother glances over, thinning his thick lips into a straight line. i roll up to the table, in my normal spot. i would eat in the living room, or even my bedroom, but today, my brother didn’t seem very eccentric, like he ever was, but he usually tried to be. 

i set my crossed arms on the table, and he brings the two plates of breakfast to the table. “get your elbows off the table, baekhyun.” he ordered, setting my plate in front of me. 

i grab the fork, “thank you,” i say, but there’s silence. he sits on the other side of the table, across from me, and we both begin to eat the breakfast on our plates. 

the silence continued, the silverware clanking against the plates. i could hear the birds chirping as they sat on one of the small limbs on the tree near the kitchen window.

“i’m heading into town today,” my brother stated suddenly, cutting the silence. him and i lived in the country, secluded in a 64 acre farm that only my brother took care of by himself. 

i nod, staying quiet.

my brother thins his lips again. 

he looks over, “do you need anything from the market?” but i shake my head, and he continues, “are you feeling alright, baek? do you need some medicine?” he questioned. he was being sincere, but his deep, manly voice always threw off the sincerity. 

“i’m fine, kyungsoo,” i said to him in a quiet voice, “i’m just not awake yet.”

“would you,” kyungsoo cleared his throat, struggling to speak, which was odd of him, “like to come with me?” he asked. it was as if he had been waiting to ask me that, like he was afraid that i would disperse into a million pieces if he did. 

i widen my eyes slightly, staring at him for a moment before i opened my mouth to speak. “you’re asking me if i wanted to go with you?” and he sighs.

“i know you haven’t left this house inㅡ”

“ten years.” 

i watched as his face dropped. i started to feel this sinking in my stomach, regretting how i had just cut him off and stated how long it has been since i had left this house.

don’t get me wrong ㅡ i love this house.

it was two stories, three bedrooms, four bathrooms, one kitchen + one dining room combined, a nice living room, and an extra guest bedroom, with an attic, a basement, and a garage, plus a shed near the outside entrance to the basement.

it was older than i was, but i’m just a teenager, only seventeen years old. kyungsoo’s grandfather had built it with his bare hands, and he was only seventeen when he did it. 

out of the many differences between kyungsoo and i, the most daunting one was the fact that we were only half-bloods. different fathers, but i wished, as i was, too, distinctly related to his grandfather, that maybe i could be just a pinch of strong and worthy as he was.

unfortunately, that was only a dream. 

my disability, my paralysis, it was always the reason of my sorrow and pain. and even if i had learned to control it, my hate for myself, the pain of not being good enough, it would go away.

“do you want to go?” kyungsoo asked again, his voice quieter.

i give him a small smile, “sure,” i answer him, “i’d really like to go.”

and his lips curve into a smile, too.

* * *

the sun was bright, like it always was. 

i squinted my eyes as my hands pushed lightly on the wheels of my wheelchair, heading towards the car that was parked outside in front of the closed garage. it was a new car, as i hadn’t even saw it before.

_“i got a new car,” kyungsoo said as he entered the kitchen with a smile, “it’s an ultima.”_

that day when kyungsoo came in and said that, it was five months prior. it had been there a long while now, and i was just now seeing it.

i rolled up and stared at the now open car door. the passenger seat seemed so far away, it made me feel nauseous. kyungsoo walks over and places his hands under my armpits, gripping me as he picked me up and held me up, my legs straight. one of his hands let go of me, and i place my hands on his shoulders, his shirt wrinkling in between my fingers. 

the unoccupied hand reaches down under my legs, picking me up in this bridal style like way, he places me into the car, onto the passenger seat. he steps back, taking my wheelchair and he folds it so quickly, like he had done it just the hour before, even though i couldn’t even remember the last time he had ever folded my wheelchair. 

he closes my door as i get buckled, and he opens the back seat car door and places the wheelchair inside. he closes the door, and walks around the front of the car, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the ultima. he pulls out of the driveway, driving down the road now.

i was sure it took at least thirty minutes to get there, as kyungsoo played this entire album, i don’t know the same. it had eleven songs, each about three to four minutes long. i guess when you don’t have a phone and you’re also handicapped, you tend to set your mind on things that are going on around you, rather than daydreaming about things that would never happen.

kyungsoo always had a good taste in music, it went from indie to punk to even lofi. 

in real time, the present with all the iphones and the technology that i’m currently writing this story on, he often shared his hundreds of mixtapes (now playlists on digital). he would always be playing those mixtapes when he does stuff around the farm and the house.

in present time, one in particular, there’s one playlist i know, i play when i clean the house, the bluetooth speaker loud enough for me to faintly hear it all the way down to the highway.

the playlist was titled “for b.” and it featured a lot of r&b, plus a lot more artists that i can’t even remember the names of. there was a lot of alternative and r&b, which i loved. but back then, all he did was play his cd’s.

if i’m being honest, kyungsoo does too much for me. he believes that i can get better, get a job and even find love. i’m scoffing as i write this. like that’ll ever happen to me. a disabled teenager.

no offense, kyungsoo, if you’re reading this, but that’s not going to happen.

kyungsoo was older than me by nine years, making him 27 years old. he was smart and hard working, manly and not much of the talking type. he gets flustered sometimes, and even stutters due to his old stuttering problem back when he was younger.

when kyungsoo was eight, our mother had an affair with my father, giving birth to me almost four months after he turned nine. others would have thought kyungsoo wouldn’t want anything to with his half-brother, but as we grew up together, nine years apart in age, we were close.

we were close, even though people believed we weren’t. when i’m in good moods, i laugh and i joke around a lot, and kyungsoo was quiet, manly and calm. he joked some, and he was great at cooking and farming, even baking sometimes. he’s an author, too, and he hopes he could become an actor as well. 

he’s an amazing guy, i can’t believe i have someone like him as my brother.

“after we leave the market,” kyungsoo said, starting what seemed to be a short conversation, “i need to stop by the library to get a few books, and return some as well.”

i turn around in my seat, looking back at the backseat where my folded up wheelchair and a bag of library books sat. 

“okay,” i nod once, “that’s fine.”

kyungsoo glances over to me. “would you like to join me?”

i look over to him, “join you for what?” i ask him.

“to come into the library,” kyungsoo said, “i’m sure there would be a few books that are just dying for you to check them out and read them.” he was trying his best. i felt bad.

“maybe,” i tell him, “it depends on how i feel after we leave the market.”

kyungsoo nods, and the conversation ends, and it all returns to silence. the radio softly plays a song, a familiar one. _somewhere only we know_ by keane. it was a song that had released last month. february 16th, 2004. it was catchy, i had listened to it the day after it was first released.

the radio played it everyday for weeks, now, at the end of march, they only played it every other day of the week. it was a slow song, labeled as a pop song. 

“have you spoken to mom?”

i turn my head, and i see kyungsoo facing forward, his eyes glued to the road in front of him. i shake my head, even though he wouldn’t see but a slight glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. 

“no,” i say lowly, sitting back in my seat, slouching against it a bit, “i haven’t.” 

i haven’t talked to my mother in almost five years, and frankly, i’m glad that i haven’t. she was the first to leave and bail on me and kyungsoo, then my father followed with the divorce. 

the divorce didn’t really phase me, if i’m being completely honest. when my mother left, i was sad, sure, same for when my dad left, but it was just like my friends over the years. they stay here for a bit, then they leave, even if they promise to stay forever.

“do you want to visit her?” those words made me shiver with disgust.

“no, never,” i shook my head again, him now glancing at me, still facing forward, “it was her choice to leave meー _us_ ,” i correct myself quickly, “why would she want to see me now?”

kyungsoo frowned, grabbing his drink to take a sip of it after he stopped at the stop sign, “maybe we should just send her a letter? something simple ー we don’t have to go see her.”

i shake my head again, more forcefully this time, “i don’t want anything to do with her.” my voice was stern, and i could tell it hurt kyungsoo a bit. he hadn’t talked to mom or dad since they left, to protect me and keep me happy. but, i could tell that he missed them a lot. 

kyungsoo was about 19 when my mom left in december of 1996, 20 when my dad left in march 1997. i was only 9 years old when both of them left. my dad left two months before i turned 10 years old. 

and you may think that i’m broken or completely emotionally unavailable.

i mean, you’re right, but still.

kyungsoo shortly nods, and yet another conversation ends. 

the rest of the car ride is just the radio playing songs softly at a low volume. it was _my happy ending_ by avril lavigne, and as i loved avril lavigne, the song was too . . . relatable.

you could say i related to it because of my family and friends leaving, but strangely, it reminds me of how i’ve lost myself. even though i was never able to know my true self.

my disability, it has stopped me from doing so much. it made me lose friends, my parents, everyone i loved, for what? just a joke played by god? to make me feel worthless and miserable?

if so, well played god.

“we’re here,” kyungsoo muttered under his breath, saying it loud enough for me to hear. i open the car door as my older brother gets out of the car. he gets the wheelchair out of the back seat of the car and lifts me up and places me into the wheelchair.

“thank you,” but he chose to ignore me.

i began to roll forward, and kyungsoo follows behind me after he locks the car. the market looked like a literal market. wooden tents, maybe metal, people selling fruits and vegetables, jewelry and even furniture. 

as my eyes observed the sellers’ faces, i could feel the pity rubbing off of them. it made me sick. kyungsoo followed behind me, but then he stopped, something had caught his eye.

i turn the wheelchair to the right, my side facing kyungsoo who stood there in silence. he was staring at something, i could tell from his furrowed eyebrows.

“what is it?” i ask, a bit louder than my usual voice as it was loud in the market. there were plenty of people there just to chat and meet up with people, not actually there to buy anything.

kyungsoo continued to stare off, “i thought i saw a ghost,” he said, then he turned to me, his squishy smile curving on his lips, “it was probably nothing ー don’t worry about it.” 

i nod, and i drop the subject. we continue through the market, and i rolled up to the jewelry table, and the seller stood there, her back turned to me as she was doing something. i look at the rings — they were silver, gold, clean and shiny. but expensive.

“oh!” the woman turned to me in surprise, “hello! can i help you?” she asks in a sweet voice, she was old and wrinkly, not that that was a bad thing. she looked like a sweet elderly woman, kind of made me want to give her the world. 

i nod, “do you have anything under—” i stop speaking as i turned around, seeing that kyungsoo was no longer behind me, as i was going to ask him how much money he had with him, “—do you have anything that’s not too expensive?” i ask her instead, and her face gleamed.

“yes, i do,” she says, and she grabs a ring from the display table, and she hands it to me. it was silver. the band had a vine design on it, a small emerald on top. “this is only 17,000 won.” 

i smile, knowing that it was cheap for such a pretty ring. 

“did you pick out a ring?”

i let out a gasp, but i turned to only see my older brother behind me. i nod quickly, and kyungsoo takes out his wallet. 

“how much?” he asks, holding some of his money that was still in his brown wallet.

“17,000 won,” the old woman repeated, and kyungsoo gave her a short nod.

kyungsoo hadn’t bought anything for me that i specifically wanted for a long time. i never asked for certain foods or snacks, drinks or games. he just . . . knew, oddly. he never had to ask. but today, as i sat there in my wheelchair, watching as kyungsoo bought the ring, i realized that he seemed different. he wasn’t more mature, as he’s been much more mature than anyone i ever knew my entire life, even the people on tv, too. 

he just seemed different. i don’t really know how to explain it.

kyungsoo reached to hand the woman the 17,000 won, but stopped once she spoke.

“i feel bad for you, you know,” she said, thinking i wasn’t paying attention as i sat there, staring off somewhere in the market, trying to find another place to go look at next, “taking care of a crippled boy — that must be awful.”

he stared at her, “what’s that supposed to mean?” he was beginning to sound angry, so i turned quickly, creasing my eyebrows as their conversation began to tense up.

“he’s a cripple,” the woman said, “why do you waste your time on a retard like him?” she cursed, it didn’t sound normal for a woman like her to say. i’m not being sexist, but her voice when she said that word. the r word. it seemed so off, and why did she hate me all of the sudden?

was she trying to pity me at first? or treat me like i was dumb?

“watch your mouth,” kyungsoo demanded, his voice strong. he was getting frustrated.

“are you his friend or something?” the woman asked, “did his parents give up on him and left him to you? that makes him a mistake as well as a retard,” she was so mean. what did i do wrong?

“i said watch your mouth,” kyungsoo repeated, growling under his breath like a dog. he was becoming scary, and i worried for what might happen.

my brother, he has his own problems like me. i’m crippled, completely closed off as i don’t and will never open up to someone, and i hate people. kyungsoo hates people, too, but he has anger issues and ocd, along with bad astigmatism. you might even think he has it worse than me.

and you’re right. he does.

kyungsoo’s been through so much, i’ve lost count. rape and kidnapping, depression, suicide attempts, self harm, anxiety, panic disorders, terrible ptsd. 

kyungsoo used to be closed off, especially after he was raped and kidnapped by his father’s brother, but that happened so long ago. it was . . . when he was 13, when i was 3. he’s gotten better, and he knows how to open up and talk about his feelings, but with his therapist.

not me.

“why should i watch my mouth?” the woman asks, angered, “you should talk to me with respect, boy.” 

kyungsoo scoffed, shaking his head, “you’re calling my brother offensive slurs, and you’re telling _me_ to treat _you_ with respect? for an old woman, you’re a real self-centered hypocrite.” he remarked at her, and she took a step back, surprised and caught off guard completely.

 _satansoo_ , what his old, former friends used to call him from how he’d become so brutally honest in such a rude, insulting way towards others who had hurt the ones he loved. 

i love my brother. i do, even though we may only be half-related due to our blood and different fathers, but, there’s things about us that make us different.

i seem so cold, but i’m so sensitive. he seems so nice, but he’s not afraid to hold back.

it’s funny, really, how different we are as brothers. same mother, different fathers. so, how did i end up like my father and you ended up like your dad? we’re nothing like our mother.

nothing like her at all.

“soo, please, stop,” i whisper, not being able to raise my voice as i was scared, i felt numb. i couldn’t move, and for some odd reason, i didn’t want to.

“ _how dare you_ — i’m calling the police.”

“you sure you want to do that?” kyungsoo cocked his head, his eyebrow quirking up for just a quick second, though it still caught the woman’s eye. she shudders, feeling chills down her back.

for a moment, i felt chills down my own back, which was weird, because well, i’m paralysed. i can move my torso, but i haven’t had chills down my back since before the accident. it was weird that i even remembered how it felt like. maybe i have a photographic memory, but honestly, if i did, i wouldn’t be surprised. 

“if you called the police, i would tell them how you insulted my disabled brother, then insulted me, which means i have the right to speak back,” he lowers his head slightly, glaring at her with his terrifying eyes, “am i correct?” 

i sat there, watching in silence. i shivered, my skin covered in goosebumps. if he wasn’t my brother, i would’ve thought he would be a serial killer or at least a psychopath. 

the woman stayed quiet, not wanting to reply to him. she backed away, and turned her back to him, looking at something on the tables in the tent. the other shoppers stood around, their eyes wide from the conversation between kyungsoo and that woman.

kyungsoo then turned to me, grabbing the 17,000 won off the counter, then the ring, handing it to me. “let’s get out of here, baekhyun.” he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, pushing me away from the tent and out of the market.

the ring felt cold against my bare palm, and i used my other hand to grab it and slide it on my finger. it fit just right on my index finger, as it was too big on my other fingers. such slender hands, i remember kyungsoo once joked that i had hands like a woman. ha ha.

we reach the car, and kyungsoo gets me into the car, then puts my wheelchair into the back seat, just like before. he gets in, and starts the car, leaving the parking lot and driving down the road. 

it was silent, just like before. 

i swallow hard, “you didn’t have to stick up for me, kyungsoo,” i told him, glancing over to him, and kyungsoo just pokes his inner right cheek with his tongue, chuckling.

“you say that like it’s your choice,” his rude side hadn’t left him yet, and it was beginning to rub off on me, “just shut your trap, baekhyun.” 

i oblige, nodding my head once before sitting against my seat, sinking my neck into my shoulders, feeling bad for what had happened.

kyungsoo looked over to me, but for once, he didn’t say anything.

we arrived at the library, and kyungsoo gets out of the car. right before he closes the door, i call out, “kyungsoo!” i say, and he leans down, poking his head out to see me, “i want to come with.”

my brother sighs, and steps back, closing his car door. he walks around the car, and he takes out my wheelchair and unfolds it. then he opens my own door. he picks me up and takes me out of the car, setting me down on the wheelchair. 

“come on,” he said, giving a signal to me to start moving. i put my hands on the wheels, moving forward, following my brother into the library. 

it was a pretty nice place. it had large windows on the walls, tall bookcases that were twice my standing height, though, i still couldn’t believe that i, the paralysed seventeen year old teenager, was an inch taller than my older brother, kyungsoo.

according to my last doctor’s visit, i am 175cm, or 5’9”. yeah, i couldn’t believe it either. and i still don’t to this day. and kyungsoo, he’s 172cm, or just 5’8”. three centimeters shorter than me, but at least i can’t stand up and get on his nerves that i’m taller than him. 

“do you see anything you like?”

i turn, “no,” i answer him, and kyungsoo nods, then he points.

“i’ll be over there in that section.” and i nod, before he walks behind me and heads to the section where he had pointed. i look over, seeing as he disappeared behind the bookcase, only the top of his head being seen. a sign sat on top of the bookcase, _murder mystery_ , it read. 

i let out a short laugh, “i’m sure he’s trying to find a way to get away with murdering that lady from the market,” i mutter, then i turn back to the bookcase. i rolled back a bit, just a centimeter away from the bookcase behind me. i look up, and my eyes read the sideways title on the book.

 _The Alienist_ , i tilt my head in interest. 

i look away, seeing no one around, and i frown, knowing kyungsoo was too far for me to call for him in a silent library. “dammit,” i curse under my breath.

“do you need help?”

it was an unfamiliar voice, deep and soothing. it sounded manly, a strong tone of voice. a voice that i hadn’t ever heard before, but now in present day, it was so nice to hear again, the first thing he ever said to me. 

i look over, seeing a giant standing by the end of the aisle. i nod slowly, almost embarrassed. the man walks over to me, looking only slightly up. i grunted, realizing how tall he was, it was extremely intimidating. especially to a 5’9” guy like myself, who also cannot physically stand.

“which book?” he asks, looking back down to me. his eyes were dark chocolate brown, but the lights still reflected off the metal of my wheelchair. the aisle was dim, i couldn’t see his face well.

“the alienist,” i raise my arm from my lap to point. he looks back up, reaching barely up to grab the book and hand it to me. “thank you,” i whisper, and the man nods his head.

“are you alone?” i felt my heart stop.

i shake my head twice, “no, i’m here with my brother.” i reply, and the man slides his hands into his pockets. 

the man opens his mouth to speak, but stays quiet for a moment. “would you like to sit together?” and i nod. i hated being alone.

i roll out of the aisle and he follows behind. i roll up to one of the wooden tables, and he sits across from me. his figure was thin and tall, but he looked like he works out daily.

his face was definitely not disappointing. he looked like a jock, and he was attractive. very.

“i’ve heard of that book,” said the man, pointing to the book in my hand, “my mother really liked it — she keeps telling me to read it.” he told me, but he didn’t sound like he was complaining.

i nod, “my brother loves this book, it’s one of the only murder mystery novels that he’s ever read more than once.” and then i look back to the bookcase, “i wonder why it wasn’t over in the murder mystery novel section.” i murmur, but the man hears me, and nods in agreement.

“yeah, i wonder about that, too.” 

his voice made me feel weak in the elbows, i felt like falling over. his voice was addictive, it was soothing and sweet, calm and deep. 

i look to him, “do you want to check out the book instead?”

then he shakes his head, “no, of course not. you wanted it first.” he shakes his heads from side to side, “besides, i could get your number and maybe we could have a book club together.” then his lips thin, “if that’s alright with you.”

i nod, “that’s fine with me.” and i grab my bag from the back of my wheelchair, taking out a pen and grabbing his hand. _i really had no regret or embarrassment then._

i write my number on his arm, and he watches with gleaming eyes. a small smile — _no, a smirk_ — curved on the corner of his lips. i knew he wasn’t trying to get into my pants, because i’m a talking vegetable. 

“do you live close?” the man asked, and i raised my hand, giving him a 50/50 gesture. 

“i live out in the country, on my brother’s farm,” i answer, though i regretted it from how i was just openly talking about where i lived like it was nothing. 

but, now, i think it was because of how i was so isolated for years, i had forgotten how to talk to anyone who wasn’t my brother. 

some might call that unnatural, not normal, even unhuman. but to me, it was just who i was. an isolated individual who hasn’t walked on two feet in more than twelve years. 

the man huffs, like he couldn’t believe it. “you live on a farm?” 

i was mentally preparing myself to be made fun of, or at least teased.

“that’s actually really cool! i’ve always wanted to live on a farm,” the man said, and i perked my head up, “i love animals — it’s why i work part-time at a zoo.”

my eyes widen, and my eyebrows raise. i felt this sudden breeze through my hair — why was he such a nice person? he seemed so sweet, so innocent.

and that was the problem.

“oh — really?” i ask, interested, “that’s amazing.”

the man nods his head, “i can give you a private tour sometime, if you’d like.” he offered, and i notice kyungsoo standing at the librarian’s desk, checking out about a 4 book tall stack. he was about to leave, and i’d have to go.

“give me a call,” i said to the man, “and i’ll see if i can.” i sounded desperate, but that didn’t matter. 

even though i knew bringing such a sweet, kind guy into my disaster of a life could hurt him badly, my heart didn’t care. it wanted to see him again. 

i wanted to see him again. 

the man is caught off guard, and he lets out a quick, quiet gasp. then he smiles, exhaling a bit. “oh, sure!” and he stands up, reaching his hand to me. “it was nice to meet you . . .” he waited for me to say my name, and i gave him a smile.

“baekhyun,” i said, “my name is byun baekhyun.”

the man smiled, “it was a pleasure to meet you, baekhyun,” and he shook my hand gently. his hands were veiny, but gentle. it was so contradicting.

he walked away, then stopped to turn back to me with a grin. “i’m park chanyeol, by the way.” then he clicks his tongue twice, and walks out of the library.

i sit there, starstruck, even lovestruck by the taller man. “wow,” was all i could say. 

he was so attractive, but so sweet, so innocent. i sound like some cougar, but it was true. his build was strong and muscular, his face was handsome and detailed, his hair was combed but fluffy. he was the ultimate dreamboat, but as i realized, he was straight.

he had to be. no perfect guy like him was gay, not even bisexual like me. i knew that. and i’m not insulting anyone out there who’s gay and is a guy. 

the perfect guy, for me, is never gay. but for others, your soulmate is out there, being true to you, making you laugh, making you happy. 

i wish i knew what that was like.

“you ready to go?”

my shoulders jump slightly, and i look up to see kyungsoo standing there, his chin just barely against his chest as he stared down at me. it was honestly terrifying, the way he popped up out of nowhere, and how his eyes were shadowed, but the white light reflecting in his dark chocolate pupils made me shiver. 

“y-yes,” i stutter, and he hands me his bag of books. i hold them in my numb lap, and he walks behind me, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair before taking me out of the library. 

he unlocks the car, gets in for a moment to insert the keys into the ignition before getting back out to put his bag of books into the backseat. i glance around, the buildings were gigantic compared to the library. it was only one floor, maybe 20 feet tall? and the other buildings, they were at least 100 feet tall each. 

i was weirdly relating to the library, like the building. he was small and different, while the others towered over him like being tall was a reason that they’re better than him. 

but then, a sudden honk from a car made me jump slightly, catching me off guard and taking me out of my thoughts. i looked for a moment, trying to find where that sudden honk came from, when i saw a car, facing the exit of the parking lot, and there was the guy.

his arm against the outside of the car, leaning a bit out of the window as his other hand stayed on the wheel. his left arm raises as he waved his hand at me. “don’t forget to call me, eh?” he calls out to me, then leans back into the car, driving out of the parking lot, heading into the city. 

“who was that?” kyungsoo asked as he walked back over to my side of the car. he picked me up and sat me in the car, before i could even reply to his question. he closed the door and walked around to his side of the car, getting in. 

“did you . . .” he pauses for a moment after he sits down in his seat in the car, and i got buckled, before he continued, “make a new friend?”

“new friend?” i ask, scoffing lightly, “i don’t have any friends to begin with.” 

from the corner of my eye, i saw his face drop. he was excited for me, and my attitude made him feel bad for even asking about it. he’s been in my life, since the very beginning, and he only knows the things i tell him, nothing else. he respects my privacy, but i think i’ve began to take that for granted, and take out my weird, inner frustration with myself and my paralysis out on him.

it was a shitty thing to do.

but i had no one to talk to. not even him.

kyungsoo opens his mouth to speak, his jaw agape, but then i spoke, having no control over it whatsoever. “i’m sorry,” i tell him, “i’m just tired.”

i had never apologized to anyone in my life. 

but i knew that surprised him.

kyungsoo was witty — he was always sarcastic and his jokes were actually funny. he was a humorous guy, even though he was usually quiet around me. there are some nights, where i come out and watch a movie with him. 

one night in particular, kyungsoo made pasta for dinner. some american dinner, it was spaghetti. i had never had it before, but i fell in love with it once i tried it. especially with lots of parmesan cheese. 

it was delicious, but i knew that kyungsoo had cooked it just for me, and it only tasted that good because he was such an amazing cook.

to this day, i still don’t understand why kyungsoo isn’t an owner for his own restaurant by now. he’s an amazing cook — i truly don’t know how he’s not a chef.

he’s an author — and a farmer — and i still don’t know how he does it all with ease. he’s such a hardworking person, taking care of me, himself, the livestock, the crops, the farm, his books, and other chores around the house like it was nothing. he doesn’t have the time for friends, for mom and dad, for anyone but me. 

he’s twenty seven, and still not married. or even dating. i . . . felt really bad.

i took him for granted. all the time. 

but as i am just not realizing this while i’m writing this to you all, there’s nothing else i can do but hope one day he knows i’m sorry for taking him for granted.

“it’s alright,” said kyungsoo, “i understand.”

i look to him, and i exhale. “his name is chanyeol.” 

i watch as kyungsoo’s blank expression turns into his normal demeanor with one eyebrow raised. it was “his thing,” he claimed. 

“chanyeol? is his last name park?”

_how the FUCK did he KNOW THAT?!_

i gulp harshly, “yes.” i nod slowly, lowering my head. i stared at my lap, fiddling with my thumbs, then he let out a laugh, and i shot my head up quickly, confused.

“i went to school with him,” said kyungsoo, and i gasped, covering my mouth quickly, but kyungsoo didn’t seem to have noticed, and as i know his observant tactics, he probably chose to ignore it. “he was a real nice fellow 一 an upperclassman of mine.”

“he’s older than you?” i muttered, and kyungsoo nodded. i couldn’t believe it.

chanyeol had such a youthful face, he looked young. he looked eighteen. but instead, he was the upperclassmen of my twenty seven year old brother who already had deep worry lines in his cheeks. it was so weird . . . and yet so intriguing. i never wanted to look away from him, and when he left, all i could think about was him. him. him. and i just met him.

and now it seemed that he was much older than me. maybe even ten or more years older than me. he was my brother’s upperclassmen 一 i was glad at that moment i was sitting down.

“not by much though,” kyungsoo said, “i think a month or two.” 

i look over to him, and as i calmed down a bit, i stared at him, “then how is he your upperclassmen?” i asked, “since he’s only a couple months older than you.”

i may have not been in public school for most of my life, but it didn’t mean i didn’t know how things worked there. i’ve watched too many shows and read too many books to not know it.

but i never first hand experienced it. that’s what sucked about me.

i had zero experience, but maybe that was okay.

“oh, i forgot,” kyungsoo let out a chuckle, “he skipped freshmen year because of his good grades. his parents paid for it, though,” he let out a sigh, he sounded sad, “he didn’t want to skip a grade. he had friends in our class of students, and he didn’t want to leave them.” 

i look back to face forward, thinking about the things he was telling me.

“he’s got a good heart,” kyungsoo said, “and even though i was smarter than him and he was the one skipping a grade, he made sure to let me know that if he ever needed someone, he’d come to see me.” my brother sighs, but now it sounded happy. “he’s a really good guy.”

i turned, and watched his round cheeks turn a slight pink, and i thinned my lips. “did you like him? more than a friend?” i ask, and he tenses up from the sudden questioning.

kyungsoo bit his lip lightly, and i watched him close his eyes for just a moment. he opens them with a huff, and he glances at me, his voice low and deep.

“i loved him.”

my eyes widen, my jaw dropping open. i couldn’t believe it. i really couldn’t.

“you loved him . . . ?” i whisper, and kyungsoo turns the wheel slightly to the left, driving down a curvy road. it was bridge mountain drive, about ten minutes away from our home. 

kyungsoo nods, “there are still some lingering feelings, but i’m seeing someone else right now so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

my eyes widen even more, if that was even possible. 

“who the hell are you seeing?” i asked eagerly, “and why didn’t i know about this?” i exclaimed at him, lightly hitting him in the arm. 

i identify as bisexual, with a preference for men. women . . . i don’t want to hurt them with my pessimistic attitude for life, and everything around me. but men, there’s something about them that makes my heart beat fast. like chanyeol. he made my heart skip beats, and apparently, he did the same thing for my brother, too.

if i still didn’t like women, i’d be a raging gay.

kyungsoo lets out a roar of laughter — his laugh was so deep, it was lowkey terrifying. “i’ve been seeing him for a couple months now ㅡ it’ll be six months next week.” he told me with a grin.

“six months?” i click my tongue, “can i meet him?” 

it caught me off guard that he had a boyfriend of almost six months and i had zero clue about it. and i thought i was secretive. 

kyungsoo just continued to laugh, “he’s coming for dinner next week for our six month anniversary — you’ll meet him then.”

“what do you identify as then?” i crease my eyebrows, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“homosexual,” kyungsoo answered, “gay, faggot, queer. it doesn’t matter which you call me. i’m just attracted to men — i don’t understand why that’s so bad nowadays.” he grumbled, sounding a bit angry that i asked such a question, but i agreed with everything he was saying.

i knew what he meant. it was 2004 — nobody liked gays except, well, gays.

“i’m bisexual,” i admit, and he looks over to me with a grin. he was proud, and that made me feel happy inside. he accepted me, even though i knew he would. even if he wasn’t gay himself.

he’d always support me.

“well, i’ll be damned,” that seemed to have brought him back to his happy self. his cocky smile curved on his heart shaped lips, and he glances at me, “don’t let anyone bring you down, baekhyun.” he said, and i slowly turn my head to him, staring at his continuing smile, “i don’t want to see you get hurt like i did.” his smile dissolved in just seconds, and i gulped.

i knew kyungsoo was overprotective, and some may see that as nice of him to say, wanting me to be careful, but i saw it as . . . somewhat odd? different? 

he had never mentioned getting hurt — he _never_ gets hurt. 

he’s a tough guy, but now, i think i was wrong. 

“okay,” i nod my head, “i’ll be careful.”

we pulled into the driveway, and he took the keys out of the ignition. he took me out of the car and we headed inside. he carried the books in the bag, as i wore the emerald ring he bought me.

* * *

i sat there in my wheelchair, waiting for kyungsoo to finish cooking dinner.

i was reading my new book. it was good so far, the alienist. it felt weird, reading it as i thought about what kyungsoo had said on the car ride back home from the library.

_“he was a real nice fellow 一 an upperclassmen of mine.”_

**upperclassmen.**

kyungsoo had said chanyeol was only a couple months older than him. but at the same time, kyungsoo was nine years older than me. and with kyungsoo being twenty seven years old, it also meant that chanyeol was also twenty seven years old. 

and i was just seventeen.

the phone suddenly rings loudly, hurting my eardrums, and i bolt my head up from the table.

“baekhyun! could you answer that for me, yeah?” i hear my brother call out from the kitchen. i gave him a nod, though he couldn’t exactly see me.

i rolled into the hallway where the stairs were at, along with the front door and the other doors leading into the kitchen, dining room (where i had just come from), living room, and a bathroom. 

i grab the phone off the phone port, and i pressed it against my ear. 

“hello?” i greet, my lips rounded. 

“is this baekhyun?”

i gulp. “y-yes.” i stutter out.

i could tell the other person was smiling from the other side of the call.

“it’s me, chanyeol!”

i smile, “oh, i’ll write down your number then.” i look over and grab the yellow notepad that kyungsoo uses for grocery lists and phone numbers from calls on the phone that i was using now. 

i click the pen and write down his number, the phone between my cheek and my shoulder. 

“did you miss me?” my stomach twisted.

the sudden words rolling off his tongue after some time of silence caught me off guard. i was jumpy like that – and i wasn’t expecting him to do that at all.

“yeah . . .” i murmured, but he heard me.

he cheered and cheered, so happy and excited. he sounded like some kid who’s about to get an ice cream sundae just for breathing. 

after a few moments, he speaks again.

“you don’t talk much, do you?” 

i let out a quick gasp, but i cover my mouth, hoping he didn’t hear it. i uncover my mouth and stare at the floor, holding the phone against my ear. 

“no — i don’t like people.”

“understandable. they really suck all the fucking time.” he pauses for a moment, then frets and begins to panic. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to curse so vulgarily.” i wanted to protect him.

“no, it’s okay,” i reassure the taller male over the phone in a sweet, calming voice i didn’t even realized i had and could do until that moment. “i curse a lot too, so feel free to curse if you’d like to, yeol.” did i really just call him yeol? a nickname? already?

“yeol?” _oh no._

i started to panic. i could feel my blood pressure rise, my heart running fifty miles per hour. i couldn’t stop. i called him yeol. **_YEOL_ **. and i just fucking met him. 

“i like that nickname. it’s cute.”

_are you FUCKING kidding me?_

“o-oh, r-r-r-really?” i sounded like bill from stephen king’s it. i was a stuttering mess, especially around boys and/or girls who make my elbows feel weak.

i could practically hear chanyeol nod on the other side of the phone. “it’s a really cute nickname, baekie.” 

i melted so quickly — i had never felt this way about a boy before. 

frankly, i had never felt this way about anyone before. people call me lonely and an outcast and a loser, but i really don’t care. and yeol, he suddenly made me feel better than i did before.

“i like baekie, too. — can i call you that?”

at that point, i couldn’t tell if he was trying to be friends with me or try to get into my pants that covered my paralyzed legs. but really, i saw the first one.

“yeah — i like it.” and he chuckles.

he seemed so sweet — and i was right. 

but sometimes, i wished i wasn’t.

* * *

the call lasted so long that my dinner was cold by the time i wanted to actually eat it. 

kyungsoo had already headed upstairs to bed, probably staying up for a bit to read his new books that he got at the library earlier today. 

while i, on the other hand, placed my plate of white rice into the microwave that sat on the counter next to the toaster, so i could easily reach it.

i press the buttons and close the microwave door, pressing start. i wait as the timer counts down from 30 seconds. but, my mind wondered, and all i could think about was chanyeol. 

chanyeol. park chanyeol.

_twenty seven year old chanyeol._

my friend. my friend. _he was my friend._

i couldn’t process it. _why couldn’t i process it?_

i shake out of my thoughts once i heard the microwave beeping. i opened the microwave and took my plate out, then closed the door before heading to the dining table. i began to eat the white rice on my plate, but i felt off. 

if i had never left the house, i wouldn’t have known of chanyeol at all.

but i was so glad that i did. he was amazing. charming and funny. nice and caring. 

he was a good guy – but there was still a part of me that wanted me to keep myself closed off. i wanted to keep as my normal, pessimistic self, as i knew he was a good guy. he wouldn’t just stop talking to me because i was cold – he’d understand why. i hope. 

if he truly wanted to be my friend, he’d be okay with my bad attitude. that’s just common sense, but knowing me, i don’t know have enough self control for that yet. he’s the first friend i’ve had in years – and i really didn’t to pretend to be someone else, or ruin the friendship entirely.

once i finished my rice, i set my plate into the sink and turned the lights off on my way out. i rolled into the entrance corridor, and i look to the stairs. kyungsoo’s bedroom was upstairs. i had never been up there, and i couldn’t. there were stairs – i was in a wheelchair. it was impossible.

i shrugged it off and rolled to my room, climbing into bed. i grabbed the cane that still sat against my bed, and pushed the wheelchair to against my dresser. i turned onto my back, setting the cane back where it was before, and i placed my hands on top of another, right on my stomach.

i stared at the ceiling.

all i could think about was him.

it wasn’t even based on love, my thoughts. they were . . . based on something else. my first friend in years. a new thing for me, after so long of nothing. it felt good. it felt scary.

it felt new. 

even though i’ve had friends before.

but this time . . . i felt like a new person.

* * *

the next day, he told me he was going to work.

“you’re going to work?” i ask, creasing my eyebrows, “i thought you worked at home.” he had been working from home for two years now. for just two reasons only. 

_“it’d be easier to take care of the farm,” he claimed back then, just two years ago when he first began to stay home and work from here, “plus, i can take care of you more, too.”_

the first one was a lie, i knew it was. he treated the farm like it was his own child – and before that, he would work and work and still be able to take care of the farm. 

the second reason, unfortunately, was true. he needed to take care of me, at the time.

two years ago, i had went onto the front porch to get some fresh air, and i saw a fox trying to get one of our chickens. without thinking, i rolled my wheelchair, but i went down the steps, not the ramp. i fell to the ground, the wheelchair on top of me. no one was around to help me. i had no one.

i crawled, only using the only two limbs that still worked and slowly made my way into the house to call my brother, who was in town at his job at the town’s newspaper writer. he came home and escorted me to the hospital, where all i had were some bruises and a couple cuts. nothing broken or badly injured. just sore as hell.

from that day forward, kyungsoo stayed home with me. he worked in his room upstairs, writing for the paper and his own book, a sequel to his best selling novel, as well as work on the farm that he owns. 

“i did,” kyungsoo said as he fixed his tie, then his collar, “but i’ve decided to go back to work.” my brother mopes, and looks back to me. “i know it’s been two years since the incident,” i let out a gasp – he was actually talking about it. he hasn’t talked about it at all. he didn’t talk about it when it all happened. “but i believe it won’t happen again, as you’ve grown and i’m sure you can take care of yourself better now.” he sounded as if he was lecturing me. 

i give him a nod, “okay.”

“there will be someone coming over in just a few to keep you company.” 

“keep me company?” i whisper. 

kyungsoo grabs his suitcase, “i’ll see you when i get off work at five, alright?” he pets my head lightly, “bye, baek.” and he turns the doorknob of the front door and walks out.

there was someone coming over today to “keep me company.” and as much as that worried me, i was still getting childishly offended of how kyungsoo got me a babysitter. i was seventeen – i didn’t need a damn babysitter – and kyungsoo knew that. 

but as i now look at it, he was just trying to take care of me. he didn’t want another incident, he didn’t want me to get hurt anymore. and as much as i understood now, it’s years too late to change my past self’s mind back then. 

i waited for an hour, sitting in my wheelchair in the living room, flipping through the tv channels. it was the only kind of outside world technology we had, except for the phones. kyungsoo didn’t even use a computer here. he wrote his script for the newspaper by hand and send it off by mail, or dropped it by if he went to town that day. he hated technology, but it was because he was older and wasn’t fond of it much at all. 

but about a minute after the clock struck 9:30am, there was a knock at the door. i growled, knowing it was the babysitter kyungsoo had requested for me. i think at the time, what upsetted me the most was the thought of kyungsoo using his own money to take care of me – i despised it.

i didn’t like him using money on me when i didn’t ask for it – especially if it’s something i didn’t want at all. other times, it’s different – when he weirdly knows what i exactly want without asking me and just buys it for me anyways. i don’t know – it made me believe he was a psychic or something. 

i rolled out of the living room, turning the tv off with the press of a small red button on the black remote. i look up at the large front door, and see a figure through the stain glass window. it was a shadow, dark but light as well. it was fuzzy, blurry. i couldn’t tell much. but the way the build looked from what i could tell – i widened my eyes almost immediately once i figured it out.

i grab the doorknob, holding it for a second before i slowly turned it. i used my other hand to roll backwards a couple feet as i pull the door open – and there he was.

the twenty seven year old part-time zoo worker.

park chanyeol.

“c-chanyeol!” i exclaimed nervously, and his own eyes widen, too. did he not know i lived here, too? did kyungsoo not tell him? “w-what’re you doing h-here?”

“kyungsoo gave me a call,” chanyeol answered, his eyes were wide, his large dark chocolate pupils were surrounded by a pool of white, “he asked me if i could take care of his brother for him.”

kyungsoo must’ve seen the number on the notepad next to the phone. rookie mistake.

i watch him gulp. 

“you’re his little brother?” 

i look up, and i slowly nod. “half brother,” i correct him, “i’m only seventeen.”

chanyeol gave me a nod, still taken back from what he had just found out. “m-may i come in?” he stutters a bit, struggling to speak at first. 

i roll back slightly, letting him step into the house. i glance outside as i close the door, seeing his parked silver truck parked near the fence where the chickens were at. 

“this is your house?” chanyeol asks, starstruck by the huge house kyungsoo and i lived in. 

“kyungsoo’s grandfather built it with his bare hands,” i answer, watching him look around with mesmerized eyes, “i’ve lived here all my life. though,” i let out a chuckle, “i’ve never even been upstairs.” and chanyeol looks at me, confused.

“how have you– oh, i’m sorry.” he quickly apologized once he realized mid-question. “i should really watch what i say – i’m so sorry.” 

he was so apologetic, so kind. i knew i couldn’t let him into my life. he was too good, too sweet. he wouldn’t be able to handle everything.

so i knew. i had to hide my good side, my ruined side. and only show my mean side. my cold side. the one that would drive you away, chanyeol. i had to. i couldn’t hurt you with my disaster of a life. my issues, my mental disorders, my paralysis. i could never be good enough for you.

“it’s okay – stop apologizing.” i reassure him, raising my hands at him. “don’t worry so much, yeol. i’m not offended or anything.” i was basically going against what i had just decided to do.

chanyeol stared down at the floor, “hey – are you hungry? do you want me to cook you something?” from the way he looked at me, he seemed eager, but he didn’t look like the cooking type at all.

i turn my head away, “don’t pity me – i can cook myself.” i roll into the kitchen, and i hear a slight huff. i hurt his feelings, but maybe he’d stay out of my life so i wouldn’t hurt him.

i open the fridge, looking for something to eat. i grab the container for the leftover beef that kyungsoo and i had a couple nights before, and i look over, grabbing the cane to use to reach up to the cabinet and pull it open. i stare, and i reach my hand up, trying to grab a plate, but failed.

chanyeol walked in, and saw me. he stepped behind the wheelchair, not even leaning over me at all to grab the plate for me. it was so easy for him and his long arms. his working legs.

he places it on the counter in front of me, “here,” he whispered, his voice was low, and it cracked slightly. he sounded hurt. and as regret filled my mind, i stayed quiet. 

i put the beef onto the plate with a fork, then setting the plate of leftover beef into the microwave, letting it heat up. i sigh, waiting. chanyeol pulls a seat back at the dining table, sitting down. he’s silent. i felt really bad.

the microwave beeps and i open the door, taking my plate of beef out, but i exclaim, “ow!” it was scorching hot. i must’ve put it in there for too long.

the next thing i knew, chanyeol practically sprinted to me, grabbing my hand. he runs over to the pantry, grabbing something on the floor, then walks back over there. it was the first aid kit.

kyungsoo told him where it was at. 

chanyeol puts the first aid kit on the counter, unzipping it. he takes the bandages out and unwraps some. he grabs my hand with his right hand, holding it tightly as he wraps the bandages around my fingers that were burnt from the scorching plate. 

i stare – i couldn’t move. 

i observed as he carefully wrapped my thin, slender fingers with the bandages. it was as if this wasn’t the first time he had done it. and i wouldn’t doubt that if it was true. 

“that should be better,” chanyeol said, and he leaned back up, straightening his figure. he then walked away, put the first aid kit back, and headed into the other room without another word.

he caught on quickly – but that just meant i wasn’t the first person who had done this type of thing to him – and that made me feel guilty. but i knew – this was best for him. 

i take my plate, rolling over to the table and i begin to eat, using a fork. i never got the reason why asians used chopsticks – i never learned. it was easier to use silverware. for me, at least.

by the time i had about two bites left of the beef, chanyeol walked into the room. he said nothing, his lips were thinned against each other. he pulled the fridge door open, and grabbed a water. he closed the fridge door and turned around, meeting eye contact with me.

chanyeol’s demeanor. it was so easy to read. 

his structure showed bitterness. he seemed mad, upset, but not angry. just . . . hurt.

but those eyes of his – those rich chocolate pools – they told a different story. they showed his benevolence side; his sympathetic, caring side. he still cared for me. why did he still care for me?

we just met yesterday. and i’ve been rude, cold. he still . . . cares.

chanyeol looks away after a moment and begins to head out of the room, but i speak up, without even realizing i did until i watched chanyeol stop and stare at the ground, his eyes were wide, from what i could see. i caught him off guard, i knew i did.

“why did you talk to me?”

after a moment, his shoulders relax. “you seemed nice, and i wanted to be friends with you. i figured, from what your life is like from what i could tell from just a quick glance at you – you haven’t had many friends that lasted – and i wanted to change that.”

“you just met me yesterday.” i tell him. “why do you care so much already?”

chanyeol lifted his head, and faced the exit of the room. he stared off, quiet for a minute before he let out a small sigh when he spoke, “you reminded me of my mother.” and he left the room.

my pupils dance – _his mother . . . ?_

i felt this sinking feeling in my chest – my heart beating fast. he genuinely cared for me. even if it was a bit too much. he cared. he still cared . . . _how broken was he?_

i still don’t understand why you cared so much, chanyeol. even years later, after asking you so many times, hearing the same explanation each time in different wording. i still didn’t understand.

i roll away from the table, and followed chanyeol into the living room where he was now sitting on the couch. he had raised the remote, turning the tv on. and then he looked over when he heard me roll my wheelchair into the room. 

“i’m trying to be cold to you so you won’t stay in my disastrous life and get hurt like everyone else.” i told him, and i watched his eyebrows raise quickly, “i’m trying to protect you, chanyeol.” i shuddered, “so why won’t you let me?”

he stared at me. he couldn’t speak.

“i like you and i want you as my friend,” i said to him, looking down for a moment, “but i can’t bear to watch you suffer because of me. i’m too much to handle. and i don’t want to hurt you.”

there’s silence. nothing but silence. 

“maybe i want to get hurt by you.”

i gasp, and i look up at him. a small smile curved on his lips.

“i haven’t felt anything in a long time – but when i met you, i felt happy. for the first time in years.” he lets out a breathless chuckle, “what’s the harm in that?” 

i didn’t know what to say. i didn’t know if i should be flattered or happy or sad or angry. i didn’t know what to feel at all. and at that moment, i felt nothing.

“i want to be friends with you,” said chanyeol, sighing as he looked down for a second, then raised his head back up. his eyes were sympathetic. his benevolence. “i don’t care if you’re paralyzed or a total jerk or literally anything – i want to be friends with you.”

“okay.” 

i gave him a short nod.

“then let’s be friends.”

* * *

for the next month, chanyeol stayed with me.

from nine-thirty to almost eight everyday, he stayed here with me at the house, keeping me company while my brother worked his nine-to-fivers five days a week. chanyeol would also come to visit on the weekends, but he mainly worked at his part-time job on the weekends.

he would light up so fast when i would ask about his job. he loved it so much. the way he talked about the animals, how much he cared for them so much. it made my heart feel warm.

the last story he told me, it was about the lioness. the zookeepers believed she had gotten ill, but really, she was just lonely as the “king lion,” as they called him, was transferred to another zoo. she took care of her young cub fine, but she was still mopey and depressed. 

and chanyeol thought of the idea of giving the lioness a giant stuffed animal of a lion, so maybe she would see it as an actual lion, maybe even her mate, and she’d be happy and active again. he bought one at the gift shop, and took it into the lion exhibit. and the next day, chanyeol walked by and saw her sleeping against it, with her cub right beside her. 

it was sweet, and chanyeol even took a photo of it and gave it to me. i didn’t know where to exactly put it, so he went to my room, with me following behind, and he grabbed a thumbtack, and pinned the photo onto the wall next that my bed was against. 

“now when you get ready to go to sleep,” chanyeol said with a grin, “you can think of the lioness. maybe you can meet her soon, too!” he was so joyful, and i was so envious.

that was last week, and he hadn’t shown up since then.

i left two voicemails, not really wanting to sound too desperate for him to come over. i thought that he might be sick, maybe busy with the zoo or something. but i couldn’t stop worrying.

i didn’t think much about my feelings towards chanyeol. all i saw it as was that i cared for him as my friend. my only friend. so i didn’t really give it much thought, if at all. i just saw him as my friend. but i knew soon, he was much more than that.

it was noon, and yet, he didn’t show up. then another hour passed, then another, then another, then another, then another, and then kyungsoo returned home.

“baek! i’m home! how are” he stopped once he saw me sitting in my wheelchair next to the stairs, just staring at the door. “what’re you doing? why are you just sitting there?” and he looked around, “where’s chanyeol?” he asked.

“he never showed up.” i answered lowly, “he didn’t even call either.”

“i’ll give him a call later,” kyungsoo said, “if he doesn’t answer, we’ll go give him a visit.” and he walks upstairs with his suitcase in his hand. i sigh, and i roll back a bit so i can turn around, going back into my room. 

it was now march, a week before april begins with spring and flowers. everything chanyeol, and maybe even my brother, would like, while i hate it. it gets all rainy and the air gets stiff. but for them, it’s a nice cool breeze with new roses and daffodils blooming in the green grass. ever since the wheelchair accident, i hadn’t went outside. i don’t even know what most of the farm looks like. 

the last time i left was a month ago, the day i met chanyeol. i barely got a glimpse of it all then. there’s too much to explore, too much to see. it was a 64 acre farm after all. 

i roll to my desk, and then i found a book. it was something i had never seen before. i looked over, and _the alienist_ was still on top of my dresser. 

_lord of the flies_ by william golding.

it was a story i had never even heard of until now as i read the title over and over again. i grabbed it, and flipped it over, reading the back of it.

“at the dawn of the next world war,” i read aloud, “a plane crashes on a uncharted island, stranding a group of schoolboys. at first, with no adult supervision, their freedom is something to celebrate. this far from civilization they can do anything they want. anything.” i smile at just the thought of that kind of world, but then my smile faded once i continued on, “but as order collapses, as strange howls echo in the night, as terror begins its reign, the hope of adventure seems as far removed from reality as the hope of being rescued.”

i gulp. it sounded so scary, but an adventure as well. it was known as one of the greatest books ever written for young adults. i was taken off guard. 

i flipped it back to the front, and opened the book to its first page. i flipped it a couple times, finally reaching the first page of chapter one; _the sound of the shell_. i read the chapter, but i didn’t really pay attention to the story. i really just thought about my brother.

he was a writer, after all, but he kept his books hidden from the public. though, he already had them printed out and into an actual book. his boss at the newspaper post – his name was, if i’m not mistaken, oh sehun – and he helped kyungsoo print his stories into actual books. he was a pretty cool guy – i had never met him at the time, but by how kyungsoo talked about him, he sounded like a good guy. 

kyungsoo’s books – they lined the bookshelves in the living room, each one against another in alphabetical order. _beauty in his eyes_ , _chronically_ , _just enough_ , _november’s roses_ , and _where the wind blows at sunrise_. and i’ve read every one of them – there was nothing that wasn’t absolutely beautiful in all of them. 

my favorite was the last one. _where the wind blows at sunrise_. 

it’s about a depressed boy who meets a happy jock who’s in love with a girl, but as they grow close, the depressed boy falls for the jock, even though he loves the girl. there’s drama, and lots of romance, and it’s always been my favorite. 

the way my brother described the characters’ looks and actions, their speech and their thoughts. he knew exactly what to say to get the reader’s attention, and i’m sure, if he ever released that story, it would be one of the new york times’ best selling books. maybe even become a movie.

i always related to the main character, the depressed boy. 

the depressed boy was always sad, sure, like i was. but the way he reacted to things, thought things through in hope to help others and not himself – it reminded me a lot of myself.

and though, i’m not referring to myself as the main character of this world. i could never be the main character – i’m a talking vegetable. we don’t get to be the main characters, unless we die.

i sigh, and i close the book, remembering the number of the page i was on. i set it back down on my desk, and there’s a knock coming from behind me. i turn my wheelchair around, and kyungsoo’s standing there, his fist just an inch away from the door frame on which he knocked on.

“hey, soo,” i greeted him, a bit nervous from the look on his face, “you need anything?”

from what you could imagine, the way he stared at me was frightening. his already large, round eyes widened and his pupils shrunk in the surrounding white. he peeked around the door framed like it was a corner, and he stared like an owl with his great big eyes. 

“i’m heading into town to pick up some mcdonald’s,” he said as his eyes closed a bit, no longer widened and terrifying, “did you want to come?”

like i said, it had been a month since the last time i left the house – and even then, i didn’t expect to meet the one guy who turned my life around. 

i stare at him, then i turn my head away, looking at the book on my dresser. i remembered how i met him – at the library when he got me _the alienist_ off a high shelf for me. 

“sure,” i give him a nod, “i’ll get ready.”

i didn’t really want to go at all, but the saddened and lonely expression on his round, squishy face got to me. i wanted to keep him company, even if i dreaded the fact that i was going.

i was his only family member left after all.

kyungsoo walks away and i roll over to my dresser, grabbing sweatpants and a nice t-shirt to wear. it took me a few minutes, obviously, to get ready. i then rolled out of my room, grabbing a jacket on the way out. i headed down the hallway of the entrance corridor, and kyungsoo came down the steps just as I rolled past it. 

“you ready to go?” and i gave him a nod. he grabbed the keys off the hook next to the large mirror near the front door and headed out the front door. i followed close behind, and he closed the front door behind me before we both went down the ramp. 

he helped me into the car, and we headed on our way. it took the normal thirty minutes to get there, as both mcdonald’s and kyungsoo’s job is on the other side of town. the radio played this one song by johnny cash. it was his song titled hurt, and i guess some people would call relating to so many sad songs would be a personality trait at this point.

i look out the window, and we pass the mcdonald’s, so i quickly turned to my brother, whose face was as expressionless as can be. “we just passed it – what are you doing?” i was panicking, but i didn’t exactly know why.

“we’re going somewhere,” said kyungsoo, his face blank, “you’ll see when we get there.”

i felt as if i was getting kidnapped by my own brother, even though there was no one else i could be technically taken from, except kyungsoo. but as stupid as that sounds, i still felt that way.

after a few more minutes, we arrived at this apartment complex. i worried it was our father who we had decided to visit that day. kyungsoo got me out of the car, a “it’s okay” whispered to me from off his tongue, hushing his voice, to sound somewhat empathetic and reassuring. 

he rolled me forward, encouraging me to just relax. 

thankfully, the apartment we were going to was on ground level, as i saw no elevators around at all. he knocked on the door, a bit loud as the knock echoed through the empty hallway that connected all of the apartments. there’s a faint “come in” heard from inside the apartment – i couldn’t quite make out who was speaking. but kyungsoo didn’t even care as he opened the door and pushed me inside. 

the apartment was a bit messy, things were thrown around a bit. but, it looked so recent. maybe this person had a bad day recently. they wouldn’t be the first, or the last, to have one of those.

kyungsoo put me into the living room of the apartment, and i looked at kyungsoo as he sat down on the couch. he had a quick disgusted demeanor on his face, and i let out a laugh. kyungsoo looks at me, and he laughs, too.

“this place looks like a dump,” he tells me, and i nod in agreement, “god, i need to ask him if i can clean this place.”

him. _it was a him._

my worry that it was my father who we were visiting got drastically worse. but i was worried it was kyungsoo’s own father – the last words he spoke to me before he left haunted me for years.

and they still do. 

_“i know you’re going to think this is your fault,” kyungsoo’s father, who i saw as my own at the time, told me when i was only ten, “but it’s not. nothing is your fault. ever. i know you may hate me a lot after this, but believe me, baekhyun – i’m sorry for hurting him.”_

the next day, all of his stuff was taken out by kyungsoo. but, i wasn’t surprised. that day was the day kyungsoo began to hate his own dad – just like he hated his own mother as well. 

he somewhat hated our father more than i did – but then again, i just didn’t care anymore.

but those last words. “i’m sorry for hurting him.” he was referring to kyungsoo.

back then, he had become abusive to my brother, as he couldn’t hurt me because i was a cripple and that’s technically seen as a hate crime. but, i think the fact that abuse to your son was seen as a crime as well. 

if i was asked who had a worse life, me or kyungsoo, it’d be him. he’s been through so much, yet he’s so strong and capable. it’s like . . . everything that happened to him just made him a better person. he was the guy i’ve always looked up to, even though i never admitted it.

i hear a door creak open in a close distance. steps approaching from down the hall. then a tall boy walked out, a thin body, dark brown hair with red tips. his eyes were thin, but long. it wasn’t someone i had met, or even seen, before. i didn’t know who this was at all.

“i’m glad you called,” the boy said, sitting down in the chair next to the couch. i sat in my wheelchair next to the tv, and the boy was looking over to kyungsoo, “it’s nice to see you again, soo.”

i watched as my brother’s shoulders shivered when the guy said his nickname. his cheeks flushed pink – what was going on? – and i knew if i didn’t speak up, i probably would never know.

so i asked.

“are y’all dating?” i ask reluctantly, and kyungsoo jumps, his eyes opening wide.

“baek!” he shouts at me with a hushed voice.

the guy chuckles, “well, he caught on quicker than i thought he would.” he sits up a bit, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “you’re baekhyun, kyungsoo’s brother?” he looks at me with his dark brown eyes. his eyebrows were thin and sharp, his jawline was like a corner of a table, it was as sharp as a knife. i believe that if i touched it, even so slightly, my finger would be cut.

i give him a nod.

he lowers his head, closing his eyes for a moment before he looks back up at me.

“i’m oh sehun,” he leans back a bit, taking his elbows off his kneecaps, “i’m kyungsoo’s boss, and well, boyfriend of seven months.” the guy introduces himself officially to me, and i grin slowly.

“hello,” i hesitantly raise my hand to wave, then i bow slightly, “nice to meet you.”

as i’m writing this, i realized i never bowed to chanyeol when i first met him. maybe it was because i thought he was the same age as i was, since he looked so young for a twenty seven year old.

sehun smiles gently at me, “you’re friends with chanyeol, right?”

i let out a gasp. how did he know chanyeol? _did everyone just know chanyeol?!_

i nod, “yeah, he’s a friend – i haven’t heard from him since last week though.”

sehun raises his chin, slightly nodding at what i had said, “he’s been at work lately, trying to clear his mind. he got some bad news the other day, and he wanted to clear his mind of it before he came back to see you – i’m sorry, he must’ve forgotten to let you know.” he explained to me, his lips still curved into a small grin. 

i don’t know if it was because i’m a depressed person or i’m a talking vegetable or both, everyone seems to just have this empathetic grin on their faces when they talk to me.

it creeps me out.

“i’m glad he’s alright,” i tell him, “but what kind of bad news?”

sehun’s expression shifts into melancholia. “i . . . can’t say.” he then turns to kyungsoo, “can i speak to you in the kitchen? alone, please?” 

kyungsoo raises his eyebrow, and he nods. he looks at me and grins, “i’ll be back in just a moment, okay?” no, it wasn’t okay. 

i’ve also noticed that people always ask if certain things are okay. i hear “okay?” or “alright?” at the end of a sentence at least twenty times a day by kyungsoo, and even more with chanyeol.

i guess it was a habit, a reflex. they didn’t want me to be upset – i get it.

my brother gets up and walks into the kitchen with his boyfriend, leaving me alone in the messy living room that belonged to sehun, and if i’m not mistaken, chanyeol, too.

god – that meant he was a messy person.

i was, too, but at least i cleaned up.

i hear a murmur from the other room. i leaned to the left, trying to eavesdrop as much as i could into their conversation. 

“shouldn’t we . . . baekhyun?” kyungsoo spoke, but i missed one or two words in the middle that i couldn’t make out.

“no, not until . . .” i couldn’t hear the rest of what sehun had replied to kyungsoo’s question, but i knew it was something bad. it had to be. why else wouldn’t they tell me? 

after a few more moments, kyungsoo and sehun returned to the living room. their faces were masking their grimace, but of course, they underestimated me unintentionally, thinking that i hadn’t pulled that trick a million times before. though, i wouldn’t really call it a trick, rather a way to shield them from my true, real emotions behind this fake shell around me.

no one knew the real me. 

except one boy in particular.

and that . . . was chanyeol.

* * *

the next day, chanyeol returned to the farm.

it was nice to have him back there, even though it had only been a couple days that i last saw him. i wasn’t clingy – i know for a fact that i’m not clingy. but, i do get attached, i’ll admit that.

i felt glad – even though i didn’t really show it. 

i was on the couch, watching tv as i lay on my back, turned a bit so i could watch the tv. it was some soap comedy, but it was at least decently good so i continued to watch it. i knew nothing prior of the story and the timeline of this show and previous events before the last two episodes i watched during this day-long marathon for the show.

chanyeol was in the kitchen, though i didn’t really know what exactly he was doing in there. all i heard was a radio playing softly, it had been turned down so i could easily watch the television. 

it was getting a bit boring, prompting me to wonder if they had just copied ideas from other soap dramas – i wouldn’t be surprised if that was true. 

my ears twitched when i heard a different voice suddenly. i shot up, and took the blanket off of me. my hands grabbed my thighs and swung my legs over the edge of the couch. i grabbed my cane and pulled my wheelchair closer, getting myself into it a bit slowly, but i was careful.

once i was situated, i rolled quickly, pacing. i didn’t know why i was so scared. my heart was controlling me, my mind had nothing to do with me at all while i rolled into the kitchen.

but, my shoulders raise as i take in a sharp breath, seeing the back of him. he had an apron on, it was tied a bit loosely on his lower back, almost his waist. the backside of him was shadowed, the frontside was shined on from the sun in the rectangular window in front of him and above the sink as he cleaned the dishes. the radio on the counter just a couple feet away from me played a soft song, one from the 90’s. it was _say my name_ by destiny’s child, one of kyungsoo’s favorite songs that wasn't r&b.

his hips swayed along with the song, his tight tee pulling up slightly with every movement he made. he hummed – i could hear it. but, then he started singing along. 

i widened my eyes, but relaxed in my wheelchair as i listened to him sing along, dancing as he cleaned the dishes. his voice was deep, soothing and smooth. it enticed me, seduced me in a way i couldn’t explain. i wasn’t aroused, but rather, my heart was beating fast, skipping beats at random as i sat there, watching him like some stalker, some quiet kid. a teenager staring at an adult.

i was a teenager, though, it was soon the last week of march, soon to be april. my birthday, the day i turn eighteen, the day i become an adult, was may sixth. it wasn’t far, nor too close. but i knew, maybe i had a chance once i became an adult.

i shook out of the thought – i couldn’t date chanyeol. _i couldn’t._

kyungsoo – he loved him. _used to love him_. he loves another now, so why couldn’t i love chanyeol? was it my sympathy for my brother acting up? or was it the solemn fact he could walk?

my mind was racing, faster than my heart was. it was like a race between the two. the more thoughts, the more heartbeats, the less i knew what was going on inside of me.

was i falling for chanyeol? did i like him? did i want a relationship with him?

i had never been in love, in all of my seventeen years of life. and as my eighteenth birthday approaches with each day passing by like strangers on a street, i worried.

i worried about everything – but this became my number one priority to worry about.

was i . . . falling for park chanyeol?

my nose suddenly twitches, signalling a sneeze about to occur. i closed my arms, and sneeze into my elbow. i open my eyes when i hear chanyeol yelp, turning around almost immediately after he heard me sneeze. 

“o-oh, it’s just y-you.” he let out a sigh of relief, placing his hand on his broad chest, breathing slightly heavily. “you scared me, you know, i didn’t even know you were there.” his eyes glance from the left to the right, and then he looks at me, creasing his eyebrows, “did you see me dancing?”

i give him a mischievous grin, “and singing.” i add, and he groans, face-planting himself. i let out a loud laugh, and he looked at me, curving a smile on his lips. “don’t worry though,” i tell him, and he tilts his head at me, a confused expression on his face, “i’ve heard worse.” i teased.

he sends me a glare, “yeah, yeah, joke all you want, _baekie_ , but know this – i’m a great ass singer.” he pointed his thumb at himself, a cocky grin curving on his lips. 

ugh – the way he said baekie made my fingers curl into my palm. it was such an addicting feeling he gave me when he called me that nickname – i felt myself falling even harder for him. 

i smirk, “you couldn’t be better than me,” i say to him, and he raises his eyebrow in interest.

“then sing,” he said. i lean back a bit, a bit taken back. 

i laugh it off, “what?” 

chanyeol pulls back on the chairs at the dining table, taking a seat. “sing for me,” he repeats with a small smile, “i wanna hear the voice you claim is better than mine.”

i gulp, but i take a deep breath. i reach over, turning the volume notch to the right. the radio became louder, and he watched in silence. i felt an anxious shiver crawl down my spine as the song played, it was the beginning of it. it was _cry me a river_ by justin timberlake. 

i shut my eyes, exhaling as i readied myself to sing, knowing he was watching me.

the first verse began, and i sang aloud. i was quiet at first, but i continued on, getting louder slowly, gaining more confidence.

i could feel his stare.

as i continued, by the second chorus, my emotions began to fill into my words that rolled off my tongue in the beat of the song playing on the radio.

by the last chorus, i felt myself get louder, letting all of my emotions out by singing this song. i scrunched up my face a bit as i sang aloud, so well, so good, so full of emotion.

when the song ended, i panted for a few moments. it felt so good to let that out – i wondered why i didn’t do it more often – then i remembered – chanyeol was always there with me.

i fluttered my eyes open. i looked up hesitantly to chanyeol, and he stared with those round eyes of his. he was shocked. he didn’t look like he was breathing.

“that was,” he exhaled, he couldn’t speak, “a-amazing.” he stood up, pushing his chair back. it almost fell back – he was strong. he kneeled in front of me, placing his hand on my leg, though i couldn’t feel it. he smiled at me, and i felt my heart skip beats.

his eyes . . . those dark chocolate pools. when i looked into them, i always saw this deepened sadness in them. even if he’s smiling. 

it’s been like that since the day we met.

and i’m sure, it won’t ever change.

he tilts his head at me, “you’re an amazing singer, baekie.”

_please stop calling me, baekie. i’m going to have a literal stroke._

i shift when i feel something off. it was on my leg. i look down, and his thumb gently rubs my pants, but my eyes go wide when my leg moves, it shakes. “oh my god” i say before i gasp, throwing my hands over my mouth.

chanyeol stares at me, “w-what?” he jerks back, his hand flies off my leg so fast that i still feel the feeling of his hand on my leg. “did – did i hurt you?” his pupils danced, he was so scared.

“n-no! not at all!” i reassure him, and i place my hand on his cheek. i could feel his skin heat up against my palm. “i just – my leg moved.”

he exhales in relief, and he raises his hand, placing it on mine. he closed his eyes – he didn’t seem to want to let go of me. i felt my eyebrows raise, my cheeks heat up as his own stays warm.

“wait – did you say,” chanyeol opens his eyes, his thick eyebrows furrowing, “your leg moved?” he asks, and his eyes meet mine. i give him a nod and he pulls back from me. 

“y-your leg moved?” 

i nod, and he stands up, punching the air cheerfully.

“your leg moved!” he cheered, “your leg moved! your leg moved!” he was so happy for me. 

he went over to the counter, grabbing the phone and speed dialed the number one contact for that phone. kyungsoo’s work phone – used to contact him while he was away at the newspaper post – and it finally came in handy, for something that wasn’t grocery or business related.

chanyeol pressed the phone to his ear as it dialed. 

“hello?” i hear kyungsoo reply on the phone. somehow the phone made his voice sound even deeper than it already was – i swear, kyungsoo acted like an angel but sounded like the devil.

chanyeol practically squealed, “baekhyun’s leg moved on its own!” 

i know i should’ve been more excited than i was in that moment, but i was so busy watching how excited chanyeol was – i couldn’t look away from him. he was so happy, for me. _for me_ . **_for me_ **.

“what? – are – are you serious?!” kyungsoo was beginning to sound excited as well, and i’m sure his coworkers were definitely surprised.

chanyeol nods, even though kyungsoo couldn’t see him. “yes!”

i feel another tingle, another shake in my leg. it moved again, but this time, the other leg followed right behind it. “y-yeol, both of m-my legs s-shaked.” i stuttered. 

chanyeol’s face got even brighter, if it was even possible. “kyungsoo, we’ll meet you at the hospital.” and he hung up the phone.

* * *

we arrived at the hospital not too long after.

especially because chanyeol drove 100 miles per hour down the empty highway. and yet, the entire drive, all he did was hold my hand tightly with his right hand and drive with the other.

we sat in the waiting room. chanyeol sat at an edge seat so i could sit in my wheelchair next to him. 

it was quiet in that room. i could hear faint conversations from where i sat. the nurses would occasionally glance at me, as if i was something to stare at, like an exhibit. nothing to see here, i said in my head as i looked around, just a disabled teenager.

that’s right. i’m a teenager.

the moment shared between chanyeol and i before. my hand on his cheek, him leaning against it as he placed his own hand over mine. his closed eyes, his long eyelashes that fluttered with his eyes when he opened them. his warm skin, smooth and heated against my palm.

a seventeen year old and a twenty seven year old. 

it wasn’t something that people would cheer about. 

even if i was turning eighteen in the beginning of may, it was still something people wouldn’t be happy about from the large age difference of nine years.

“are you worried?”

i turn my head, raising my eyebrows from the sudden question from the taller, much older man. i shivered at the thought of it – and i felt it in my legs, too. this was so new, even if i felt my legs back before the accident.

twelve years ago.

i begin to shake my head, but then i nod. “i’m . . . hella worried.” i admit, and chanyeol smiles at me. he grabs my hand, and holds it. 

“kyungsoo will be here soon – but, i’d like to talk to you about something tomorrow.” it was the weekend tomorrow, chanyeol had work on the weekends. 

“don’t you have work?” 

“yeah, but i’ll just call out.” he said, clicking his tongue before his gaze met mine, “besides, it’s better to spend time with you than be alone at work.”

“i could come visit you,” i tell him, and i watch as his eyes glow with glee. 

“that sounds great!” he exclaims, still holding my hand. he was – _god_ – so cute. 

chanyeol took out his phone, it was a blackberry. “what’s your phone number?” 

i stare blankly, blinking at him. 

he tilts his head, “email?” and i nod.

he hands me his phone and i press the buttons, typing in my email that kyungsoo had made for me just the other day. it was as if he knew chanyeol would ask for my email. there wasn’ any doubt that kyungsoo hadn’t encouraged him to ask for my email. maybe he wanted me to be able to have more private conversations with chanyeol, even though i spend five days, maybe even six or seven days, a week with him for eight hours straight, but on most days, it’s longer.

“here,” i hand him his blackberry. his face was glowing as he spoke.

“i’ll send you the directions to the zoo later.”

i nod at him, and then the doctor approached. “are you,” he pointed to me, “baekhyun?” and i nod again at the doctor. i read his name tag. dr. kim minseok. sounds . . . legit.

chanyeol directed my wheelchair, following the doctor into one of the exam rooms. my legs vibrated every so often, but with each time, i gave a normal expression while chanyeol clapped his hands, cheering for it. 

i had an inner worry, as we made it through the hallways, entering the exam room. i worried about the possible outcomes of this situation. whether it be a good or bad outcome, maybe even a neutral outcome. as chanyeol encouraged me to have high hopes, think about how this could lead to me walking again after twelve years of getting around in a wheelchair. or it could end with it just being total nothing. 

i worried it would be the good outcome, more than i worried it would be the bad outcome. 

maybe it was because of my pessimistic personality, or maybe it was just the fact this didn’t seem like this would have a good ending. 

they did several tests on me after i explained everything to dr. kim, and as much as chanyeol’s excitement was presented, dr. kim’s face stayed the exact same the entire time.

“so, mr. park,” dr. kim looked up from the chart he held in his hands, lowering his glasses a bit, “could i speak to you for a moment outside?” chanyeol nodded, and stood up from the occompiant’s seat. i sat in my wheelchair, next to said seat, and i watched chanyeol and dr. kim walked out of the room. 

they stood right outside the window of the exam room, and though there were blinds, i could see their shadows almost too clearly. i watched their movements closely, observing them.

one stood almost completely still. his posture, it was just like a statue. i figured that was dr. kim, as the other one . . . he was frantically moving a lot. it had to be chanyeol.

after a few more minutes, the shadows move away and soon, the two enter the exam room again. i sat there, and i watched dr. kim moved to over where the counter was. the reflection of the ceiling lights flashed on his glasses, slightly blinding me for a second, making me squint my eyes.

chanyeol sat next to me – he was silent. 

i felt my inner worry of a good outcome shrink, as my worry for a bad outcome grew. 

but i glanced down after a sudden touch against my skin. it was chanyeol’s hand on my own that sat against the left arm rest of my wheelchair. it was at least the fifth time he had held my hand just today – i felt better when he did. but at the same time, i became a blushing mess in response.

the one thing that threw me off was the frantic tapping of chanyeol’s shoe. i didn’t know if it was an anxiety tic, or he was just keeping his excitement inside. i couldn’t tell. 

“mr. byun,” dr. kim said. his glasses flashed at me again.

dr. kim was this young looking doctor. he looked twenty one, even though his coat had sewn in words that read ‘chief of neurosurgery.’ _hot_.

i perk my head up. i felt my heart beating faster.

“i’m glad you came in today,” said dr. kim, “because if you didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to give you this great news on your part.” where was he going with this? he sounded weird.

i raise my eyebrow, and chanyeol grips my hand harder.

“the shakes in your legs are because your brain is signaling you,” dr. kim said, “your brain is trying to tell you that it can feel your legs again.” 

my hair jumps as i lean back, shocked. my jaw dropped open, my eyes widened where my pupils shrink into the midst of white. 

after twelve years, after being disabled for more than half my life time. 

i was . . . going to be able to walk.

“wow – i –” i couldn’t speak.

chanyeol grips my hand, and i turn to him. he’s smiling at me. it’s like he never stops smiling.

“we can put you on the transplant list for . . .” i zoned out of the conversation, thinking about everything. i felt like i had stopped breathing. i felt as if god was finally doing something in my favor. even though chanyeol was already the greatest thing i could ask for. 

dr. kim soon left, even though i didn’t hear most of what he was saying. i’m sure chanyeol knew what he said – he was more excited than me.

kyungsoo entered the room again. he had arrived earlier during my second test that did on me, but he had left to go park and then stop by the cafeteria to get something to eat. 

“what did they say?” he asks, and chanyeol stands up. 

“baekhyun’s on the transplant list for bone marrow,” it was bone marrow. the thing wrong with me. in the incident, the bullet hit my spine, though it never broke. i only lost bone marrow, and my parents didn’t want to go through the trouble of being on the transplant list. 

but with that, my muscles had become almost completely useless once i lost bone marrow in my spine. it’s why i became paralyzed. it sucks. i know.

“bone marrow?” asks kyungsoo lowly, trying to figure it out, and then his face shifts into shock, “oh my god! you don’t mean–”

“he’s going to be able to walk!” chanyeol exclaimed, and the two embraced happily. after a couple moments, kyungsoo pulls away with a clearing of his throat awkwardly. 

chanyeol approached me and squatted down in front of me. “you ready to go home?” he asks, and i swallow a bit hard. i nod, and he smiles again.

i’d do anything to see him smile at this point. 

was this . . . love?

on the way home, chanyeol drove me while kyungsoo drove alone. it was evening now, and even though chanyeol and i chatted about random things on the way back, one thought wouldn’t leave my mind.

why didn’t i want to walk again?

* * *

kyungsoo was off the next day, so he took me to the zoo where chanyeol worked.

it was a warm day, though it was a bit gloomy in the early morning.

april third, 2004. i remember the date so clearly. 

“hey,” i look over, and kyungsoo glances at me as he drives, “you okay?” 

he was trying so hard to make me feel happy, excited like they were about me being added to the transplant list. and as much as that one thought kept racing through my mind, i still tried to smile for kyungsoo and chanyeol. even if it was fake.

“i’m fine,” i tell him, “i’m just a bit tired.” 

kyungsoo nods, and that conversation ended as quickly as it started. i mope, watching the world go by in the window. after another twenty minutes, we arrived at the zoo.

it was a huge zoo, and when i rolled up to the entrance with kyungsoo behind me, i just couldn’t believe how big this zoo was. it was gigantic – i’m sure they’ve got to have at least a hundred animals in there.

kyungsoo walked up to the ticket stand and handed the woman the amount of money for two tickets. he stood behind me, pushing my wheelchair forward, his hands gripping the handles.

“your birthday’s in a month from now,” kyungsoo said suddenly as we entered the zoo with our tickets in hand, “think of this as a early birthday present, okay? – i know you don’t like parties.”

it sometimes freaked me out how much kyungsoo knew about me – even the things i had never mentioned to him or told him. it was like he read my diary, although i didn’t even have one.

we stop in front of a wooden pole that had wooden arrows nailed to it. they were all pointing in different directions, a different place written in different colors on each arrow. 

“where do you want to go first?” my brother asks me.

i look down at the paper map in my hands, and i occasionally looked back up to the wooden arrows and the map in my hands. i point to a spot on the map, before i looked up at the arrows.

“let’s go to the bamboo jungle first,” i reply with a grin, “i wanna go see the pandas.” i let out a small giggle, and i hear kyungsoo let out a short laugh before we headed to the left where the bamboo jungle arrow had pointed on the pole. 

kyungsoo had mentioned to chanyeol a few days before that day at the zoo. i remember he told him that he liked that i still had a pure, innocent side, even though i had such a terrible, pessimistic attitude. maybe he was right – i did have an inner pure side.

and i hated it.

it took a few minutes to get there. the crowds of people around us, their eyes wandered to the thing that i sat in. it didn’t bother me – that they were staring at me. it never bothered me in the first place, but it sure bothered kyungsoo. sometimes, i could read his emotions as easily as a book. 

he protected me, and he cared for me more than anything in the world. it was flattering, but it made me feel so bad that i couldn’t protect him in return. but, he always reassured me to not worry about it, but of course, that made me worry even more about it.

you could say, at this point, my favorite hobby is to worry, and to be pessimistic towards the world. it’s something i do constantly, and most of the time, i can’t control it. 

or, instead of a hobby, it’d be more seen and thought as a habit. a terrible habit that i wish i could control, even just a little bit, but i fail every time i try. i’m a worrying person. sue me.

he parked the wheelchair right in front of the large fenced exhibit for the endangered white and black panda. it was a beautiful creature, large and fluffy, thick-skinned and hungry for bamboo. 

“you remind me of a panda,” i say to my brother.

he smiles in amusement, “are you calling me fat, byun?” he remarks.

i let out a laugh, watching as the panda behind the fence ate the bamboo he held in his giant paw. “no – but you are a bit chubby, do,” i tease him, looking up at him as he stands next to me. i smirk at him, closing my eyes for a moment before sticking my tongue out at him.

i could feel his stare, but his face had changed. he remembered something – and he didn’t even tell me until later that day. it’s a funny story, really.

i was about four, he was about thirteen. this was before the incident, and i could still walk just fine. we were at the aquarium, and i ran down the ramp, looking up at the large windows that the fish swam behind.

_“baek!” i hear my brother call for me, “wait up!”_

_i turn and giggle, “look! it’s a cwown fish.” i say, pointing to a little orange and white patterned fish behind the glass._

i had meant to say clown fish, but i was four. i didn’t know how to pronounce it.

kyungsoo stands next to me, he was just a bit more than a foot taller than me. he was short for his age, as he was 4’11 and thirteen years old. i knew he was bullied. but i knew, if i tried to speak to him about it, he’d just ignore me, or change the subject. 

when he doesn’t want to talk about something, he makes it clear in a way that doesn’t upset me, or anyone else for that matter. he’s a caring guy. no wonder sehun loves him.

_“oh yeah!” kyungsoo smiled, watching as the fish swam away, “maybe we could ask mom and dad if they could get us a pet clownfish.” he suggests, and my face glows up with glee._

that next day, we brought home a pet clownfish named rouis. i was so happy, as any kid would be when they got a new pet, but the time with him was cut short when i awoke four weeks later, and his lifeless body floated at the surface of the tank. 

kyungsoo and i had a funeral for him in the bathroom. we said speeches, and gave our thanks to him before the ceremony ended with kyungsoo having the honors to flush him down the toilet. it was a mourning ceremony, even if our parents thought we were crazy.

afterwards, we broke a popsicle stick, about 60/40. the smaller part, we taped to the long part across it, creating a cross made from a popsicle stick. on the horizontal one, kyungsoo wrote rouis’s name, date of birth, and date of his death. 

_“it’ll be okay,” said kyungsoo as he stood next to me in the bathroom. the water filled the toilet again as he side hugged me, “it’s all going to be okay.”_

two months later, i turned five. 

a month after that, i lost the ability to walk. 

it was a shitty timeline, sure. terrible thing happened, big deal.

i’m fine. 

i think.

“hey – are those red pandas?” i ask, pointing to another exhibit just down the trail. i begin to roll the wheelchair, but kyungsoo grabs onto the handles and pushes me instead. i scold him, “i can do it myself, soo.” i cross my arms, leaning back. 

kyungsoo lets out a gentle scoff, “i know. i just figured today is your day.” that was kyungsoo’s way of telling me to relax without actually saying that word at all.

“fine.” i huff, “but only today.” 

kyungsoo parks my wheelchair in front of the fenced exhibit. i felt my face light up as my eyes looked around, seeing the little red pandas lying on the tree limbs lazily. 

red pandas were one of my favorite animals – they were absolutely adorable. their fluffy fur, patterned tails, round faces with cute mouths and little eyes. i’ve always wanted one as a pet, but i knew that technically it was an exotic animal . . . which was illegal.

yeah, i hate the government, too.

“you really like red pandas, huh?” kyungsoo huffs, letting out a laugh as he leaned over, his elbows on the handles of the wheelchair i sat in. “so, i’m a panda, and you’re a red panda?” he raises his eyebrow, and i nod.

“yep,” i pop the ‘p’ when i reply. 

kyungsoo chuckles. 

we stay there for a couple more minutes, waiting as the crowd behind us passed by. kyungsoo pulled the wheelchair back, turning it to the left. we left the bridge and got back to the trail on solid ground. we checked out a couple more exhibits, which led us to enter the next part of the trail, the rainforest. it was loud, with all the birds and monkeys caw-cawing and shouting at each other as if they were trying to fight on the other sides of the fences that divided the two species.

the first exhibit we really stopped to look at was the sloth exhibit. they were slow, moving as if they were constantly stuck in slow motion. it was an extraordinary sight, to me at least. 

i had never been to a zoo before, just an aquarium back when i was four. kyungsoo’s been to plenty of zoos – but that’s because he could leave the house, and i couldn’t. 

my eyes reflect the sun above us in the blue sky as i watched one sloth in particular. a brown furred on, large eyes and long claws, but it slept on a tree limb, right on its stomach as its limbs hung off the sides of the tree limb. sloths were weird creatures, slow and lazy, although they can’t help it. 

i sit there, feeling my legs shake once or twice again. sloths were one of my favorite animals. and that one sloth in particular, it made my stomach twist.

it . . . reminded me of _dad_.

“heyo!”

i turned my head almost immediately, faster than the speed of light once i heard that familiar voice calling out from afar, greeting kyungsoo and i as we waited in front of the sloth exhibit.

i wave and smile. my crush on him was growing faster with every movement i made at him, every gesture, every facial expression, every word i spoke to him. i was . . . in love with him.

i thought i was, and i’m pretty sure i still am now.

“hey, yeol,” i greet him and he approaches, rubbing my hair gently. 

chanyeol had this regular white tee underneath his zookeeper vest. he had khaki shorts on that matched his vest. his biceps were stretching the short sleeves of his tee shirt, and just that fact made me blush. he was so physically strong, which made me wonder if he was mentally strong, too.

chanyeol looks at kyungsoo, giving him a look. it wasn’t a bad one, but it got kyungsoo to nod and lean down to me. “i’m going to meet up with sehun down by the aquatics area. you hang out with chanyeol, okay?” he talked to me like i was a child. and technically, i was still seventeen.

kyungsoo walks away, and i watch him, not wanting him to go as my thoughts are causing me to feel uneven, my stomach twisting even more now. i felt as if i was going to hurl. 

“hey, are you okay?” chanyeol squatted down next to me. as he tilts his head, his bangs shift to the side, “you’re so pale – are you feeling sick?” he raises his hand and places it on my forehead, feeling it. “you’re hot – do you want to go see the nurse?” no, it’s because i’m blushing.

i nod my head, contradicting what i had said inside my mind, “s-sure.” i suddenly felt the chills, goosebumps covering my skin. maybe i was sick. 

chanyeol gets behind my wheelchair, turning it around, going the opposite way of where he came from. about five minutes passes by and we approach the nurse’s building. it was a two-story building, which chanyeol had mentioned on the way that the upstairs was the operating rooms just in case one of the animals needed immediate surgery. 

“i hate the operating rooms,” chanyeol had told me, “i hate seeing animals in pain.” 

he was an animal lover – as if i couldn’t fall for him any more than i already was.

we entered the nurse’s building, and there was a woman, sitting there at a desk. it was like we just entered a doctor’s exam room. no waiting room at all, it was just exam tables and medical instruments and other doctory things like that. 

“you brought me a human patient?” the woman asked, raising her eyebrow before she stood up and pushed up glasses with one finger on the middle part. “i wasn’t expecting this of you, park.”

“ah, don’t be like that, taeyeon.” said chanyeol, “this is my boyfriend, baekhyun.”

**_BOYFRIEND?!_ **

i felt my heart fall to my stomach. **_WHAT?!_ **

taeyeon raises her eyebrow again, and her smile falls. “baekhyun? what’s your last name, kid?” did she just call me kid?

“byun.” i answered quietly, though she still heard me. i knew she did when she gasped.

“you’re byun baekhyun?” she asks, walking out from behind her desk. she approached me and squatted in front of me like chanyeol had done previously. 

i read her name tag before she spoke. kim taeyeon.

and i remembered exactly who she was then.

“it’s been so long, baek,” she smiled up at me, but i could feel the sudden tension between chanyeol and her from her calling me baek, “how’s it going?” 

taeyeon and i were best friends when we were in daycare, and up until the first year of school for me. she, and the rest of the class, didn’t know what happened to me. they just thought i had moved away with my biological father, which was far from the truth. thank god.

meaning, as she was a nurse, she probably skipped a couple grades and graduated early. i’m proud of her, but i’m guessing she doesn’t realize i cannot walk. 

chanyeol grips the wheelchair handles, “he doesn’t feel well – could you take his temperature?” he asks, but i couldn’t stop thinking about him calling me his boyfriend.

it was as if he didn’t want me to speak anymore, like i’d ruin this. i’d say something off, but he was lying to her. even if it was a lie i wish were true.

she stands back up, walking over to one of the counters against the wall, taking a thermometer out of the cabinet above the counter that she stood in front of. she walks back over and whispers an, “open wide,” before she places the thin tip of the thermometer into my mouth and under my tongue. i sit there for a couple moments, and she takes it out.

“101,” she said, “you’ve got a fever.” her emotions were blunt. 

chanyeol places his hand on my head, rubbing my hair slowly and gently. it was comforting, really. he looked up from his gaze at me and looked a bit down at the girl, as she was short.

shorter than me, i knew that.

“do you have anything to bring the fever down?” 

she nods.

“yeol?” i turn my head a bit, and he walks over to the side of my wheelchair, kneeling down to my level. “am i . . . really your boyfriend?” i await his response, and his eyes meet mine.

chanyeol nods, “if you want us to be,” he smiles. 

his smile, i could never forget it. how could i?

i grab his hand, “i do.” and his smile becomes bigger.

“here’s some medicine,” taeyeon hands chanyeol a bottle of medicine to bring down the fever, “it should bring the fever down, but it’ll make you drowsy, no doubt about that.”

chanyeol stands back up, his hand on the back of my head, “thank you, taeyeon.”

the girl gives him a quick glance, she didn’t seem to like him much, even though they seemed close before. i felt bad, my presence made her uncomfortable. 

the fact the rest of my class that year, including her, never knew about my condition.

but, she still didn’t know about that. so why was she acting like this?

chanyeol gives her a short nod, and he turns the wheelchair around. he pushes the wheelchair gently, heading to the exit, but he stops when she speaks again.

“i’m going to need you to return that wheelchair,”

she thought it was the zoo’s. one that was used to only escort me.

she didn’t know i couldn’t walk.

i turn my wheelchair again, and i look at her.

there’s silence, but i scoff, and shake my head.

“i didn’t return to school that august after kindergarten because i was in an accident.” 

i watch as her eyes widen, a small gasp rolls off her tongue. 

“i became paralyzed, but i only recently got onto the transplant list for bone marrow so i could walk again – i’ve been in a wheelchair for almost thirteen years.” i mope, “i’m sorry i never told you.”

taeyeon stared, her hand covering her mouth.

“b-baekhyun,” she stuttered, “i’m s-so sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” i grin at her, “it’s perfectly okay.” i raise my hand and shake it from left to right, waving goodbye to her. “goodbye, taeyeon.”

chanyeol grabs the wheelchair handles and turns me back around. we then left the building. 

chanyeol guides the wheelchair down the trail. “i have somewhere to show you,” he said, before turning to the left, going down a path that said ‘birds way of the sky.’ it sounded like a book, a good title for a novel or long story, maybe even a short story. but it sounded so . . . unique.

we soon approached a gigantic, at least 300 feet tall see through dome. it had trees inside, and a sign in front of that said the same title as the sign. 

“wow,” i gasp as we enter the large glass dome. there were birds everywhere. every type in the world, it was so remarkable. it reminded me of . . . home.

chanyeol grins, “there’s 300 different species of birds here,” i can feel my lips curve into a grin like his, “i never thought of you as a bird lover, baekie.” 

he stopped by the fountain; it was large. birds flew by, stopped on the fountain to take a drink before they continued to soar around inside the glass dome.

he sits down on the edge of the fountain that surrounds the bottom pool. his hand held mine, but i jerked it away, causing him to stare at me with wide eyes. “are you alright?” he questions.

“i can’t feel my legs,” i said, my shoulders moving constantly with my fast breaths, “i haven’t felt my legs for more than a decade, before i met you.” i look to him, “you make my crippled self feel like i could fly. like– like i could soar the sky.”

chanyeol stares. and i feel tears forming at the corner of my eyes.

“why do you make me feel this way?”

i lower my head, my bangs hanging low in front of my face now. i was so embarrassed by my weird, sudden outburst towards him. 

i began to shake anxiously a bit, i could feel him staring at me. my head was going fast like a carousel. what was he going to say? what if he hates me?

no, he couldn’t hate me. – but what if he did? 

why am i overthinking so much?

what’s wrong with me?

why am i like this?

“i don’t know.”

i gasp.

“i’ve been wondering the same thing about you.”

“what do,” i pause once i feel his hand back on my own, “you mean?” i ask.

“you haven’t left my mind since the day i met you, baekhyun.” chanyeol said, his tone was serious and stern, but soft and gentle at the same time. “i’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that all i want to do is hold you in my arms and never let go.” he confessed, “i want to be with you, if you accept me and my love for you, that is.” he sounded so formal.

now i know why kyungsoo loved him.

kyungsoo used to come home talking about how he loves guys who talked formally back when he was still in high school, but ever since i met sehun, i’ve realized his type has changed.

but, it hadn’t changed much.

back then, his type were more book-loving guys, though they’re extroverted and caring – always knowing how to have a good time while staying responsible. but now, as he still loved the book-loving guys, but now he loved more formal guys, too – straightforward ones who are cold and not afraid to speak their mind. sehun was all of that, while chanyeol was everything but formal. he was the opposite of formal – he was a disaster.

but he made my brother happy back then, and now he makes me happy, so it doesn’t matter that he’s a disaster – it matters that he’s a person.

i shift my eyes to my lap, staring quietly.

“what makes you love me so much?” i question, looking up now, meeting his gentle gaze at me. his eyes – i was drowning in them. his dark chocolate pools, there was a light that reflected off his shiny eyes. 

he was . . . so pretty.

“you’re pretty much the exact opposite of me, baek.” _baek. not baekie._ “you– you make my heart want to jump out of my chest and run for miles – but i know,” he lets out a short exhale, taking my hand and placing it on his chest, i could feel his heart beating, “my heart only beats for you.”

chanyeol’s eyes lowered to my lips, then darted back up to my own eyes. he was signalling to me in this way where he didn’t have to use his words at all, he wanted to kiss me. 

my other hand goes to his neck, my right hand still on his chest. i pull him in, connecting our lips. feeling his pink, soft lips against my own, it made my stomach turn into jelly. 

my left hand reaches up to his hair. _so soft_ , i say to myself mentally. our lips moved against each other, they fit so perfectly with each other. it was like a jigsaw puzzle, two matching pieces put together, never supposed to be taken apart again. the kiss, it was so good, but i had nothing to compare it to, of course, as this was my first kiss – but i’m sure he had at least a couple he could compare it to, but from who he was, i had a feeling he wouldn’t compare.

i’m sure you know the metaphor, “it’s like fireworks went off as we kissed.”

well, that’s how it felt to me. and i’m sure it felt like that for you, too. 

my fingers curl, clenching his tee shirt underneath his zookeeper vest. we pull away, breathing a bit too fast, but there was this feeling inside me to kiss him again, but i spoke instead.

“if we do decide to be together,” i whisper lowly, “despite my pessimistic attitude and your cheerful tactics – how do you know for sure that,” i gulp harshly, “we’ll be together . . . forever?” i look up to him slightly, my cheeks as red as can be.

chanyeol’s dimpled cheeks began to show, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“because you make my heart beat another day,” chanyeol said, gripping my hand.

i smile back.

“and you make me fly high.”

* * *

one month passed, and it’s my birthday.

chanyeol was over at my house. he had stayed the night before, claiming he wanted to be with me when i turned eighteen, becoming an official adult. 

it wasn’t weird or creepy. he just wanted to be with me on my birthday, as i never had friends who lasted long enough to stay with me the night before my birthday.

_“it’d be fun!” chanyeol said when he was convincing kyungsoo to let him stay the night, “we could stay up watching movies and play board games!”_

chanyeol’s love for board games is, by far, the lamest thing about him. 

but it was a normal, ordinary day. 

nothing was different about it. except the solemn fact that it was my birthday. i hated my birthday.

who wouldn’t?

i flutter my eyes open when i feel a hand swift my bangs to the side as i lay on my back. i felt my legs twitch again, though chanyeol and kyungsoo both knew it would happen more often until i get the bone marrow transplant.

“morning, baekie.”

his voice was much deeper in the morning, groggy and husky. a low growl in the back of his throat.

i give him a smile, though i was only half awake.

“morning, yeol.” i use my elbows to sit up, and chanyeol gets out of the bed. 

about a week before, kyungsoo had gotten us both bigger beds after him and sehun extended my room two weeks prior. just a few days after chanyeol and i started officially dating. 

which came in handy as chanyeol stayed the night, and slept in my bed with me (no, not like that).

he extends his arm towards me, his hand out to me. i grabbed it, and he pulled me closer with just one hand. he was strong, and he still worked out everyday. 

at least, that’s what he told me before.

“did you sleep well?” he asks, picking me up and setting me in the wheelchair. i look up at him before he squats down to my level, my eyes closely following his movements. 

“yeah,” i nod, “did you? – i’m sure you didn’t have to deal with anyone kicking you in the middle of the night.” i joke, and he laughs. 

chanyeol and kyungsoo got my jokes and they always laughed – while sehun was scared to.

he leans in and kisses me gently on the lips. it was quick, but it still felt nice. 

“come on, birthday boy,” he steps behind the wheelchair, grabbing the handles, “it’s time for your birthday breakfast.” 

“are you going to say birthday in front of everything now?” i ask, quirking my eyebrow up.

chanyeol shrugs carelessly, “and what if i do? – you can’t sue me for being excited for my boyfriend’s birthday.”

i snorted, “you’re more excited than me, and it’s my birthday.” 

“well, get used to it, baekie. you’re gonna be with me for a very long time.” and he began to push the wheelchair. i roll my eyes, scoffing. but just that sentence made my heart skip beats.

* * *

we enter the kitchen, and kyungsoo stands before the stove, stirring the eggs. 

“what are we having for breakfast?” i ask, and i clear my throat, “sorry, i mean – what are we having for my birthday breakfast?” i correct myself jokingly, and that sure got chanyeol laughing.

i hear kyungsoo let out a low chuckle. 

kyungsoo was pretty supportive of chanyeol and i’s relationship, more than i thought he’d be. he had said that he saw us getting together after i met chanyeol at the library almost three months ago now. i was surprised – but then again, i swear my brother was psychic. 

“yeol,” kyungsoo looks over, “how many eggs do you want?”

“oh, come on, soo,” chanyeol cackled, “you’ve known me since we were little kids – four eggs please,” he was such a bubbly person. how did he fall for such a pessimistic person like me?”

kyungsoo laughs, “sure, i’ve known you for two decades, but that doesn’t mean i know how many eggs you want for breakfast. – i don’t even know your favorite color.”

chanyeol’s face was glowing with glee. he was so giddy that morning. i found it so cute.

sometimes i think about how he was such a child, even though he was much older than me. he was childish and a jokester, and he’s older than my twenty-six year old brother. i’m now eighteen, and i was mature, though my jokes could sometimes be immature and stupid, like chanyeol’s.

“my favorite color is emerald,” chanyeol said, “i’m thinking of dying my hair that.”

unconsciously, i burst out laughing. the thought of chanyeol dying his hair green killed me and made me laugh so hard, though i had no intention of offending him at all.

knowing him, even a bit too well for only knowing him about three months, he would probably just laugh it off. 

“what?” chanyeol laughed, too, “i think it’d look cool.” he crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair as i continued to laugh, trying to stifle it.

“cool? – you’re begging to get made fun of at the zoo.” sehun smacked the back of chanyeol’s head as he entered the kitchen, making him behind chanyeol. i didn’t even know he came in. he was silent until he spoke. 

kyungsoo had turned around, fixing plates on the dining table so he could stay included in the conversation occurring at the time. looking at my brother, it got me thinking about why sehun was so good for my brother. he was funny, not afraid to speak his mind, silent when he enters rooms where you wouldn’t even notice them until he spoke – he was truly my brother’s soulmate.

chanyeol rubbed the back of his head where sehun had hit him. “ow . . .” he mumbles, grunting as he continues to rub the spot repeatedly. 

sehun sits down on the opposite side of the table where chanyeol sat. kyungsoo sets everyone’s plates before them on the table. “eat up – we have a big day today.”

i let out a groan, “you didn’t.” i say, knowing that my brother knew exactly what i was groaning about. 

kyungsoo smiles, shrugging. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” i watch as sehun gently grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it before kyungsoo walked over and sat next to me, still holding onto my brother’s hand. it was little details like that – those always made me know for sure that they were meant to be together. sehun goes out of his way to make kyungsoo happy, just like kyungsoo has done for me ever since i was first brought into this world exactly 18 years ago.

sehun was good for my brother. i’m glad he found his soulmate.

“baekhyun-ah, do you want bacon?”

chanyeol snorts, “aye, how come baekhyun sounds like bacon?” he comments, and i think about it for a moment, then i chuckle, nodding in agreement.

“it does, doesn’t it?” kyungsoo laughed, and he grabbed his fork, “well, baekhyun, i’m sure you are not a cannibal, correct?” i think my brother was a little too formal, but it was his way of talking.

though, it was weird and sometimes confusing. but he was a writer, a formal guy. so, i didn’t really mind.

“no,” i shake my head. 

chanyeol reaches his hand, placing it on mine. i look over at him, and all i see is his beaming face looking at me. he was so handsome – it made me wonder why he chose someone like me.

from out of pity to true love, i worried this wouldn’t last. but then again, we haven’t even said those three words yet – and i’m dreading them more every second.

the moment he says it, i’ll have to say it, even though he’s already told me that he was in love with me. don’t get me wrong – i’m in love with him, too. 

i just worry that he’ll leave me one day – but doesn’t everyone worry about that?

after breakfast, i sit there at the table still as sehun helps kyungsoo with the dishes. chanyeol was dancing to this song on the radio while i watched him. he was . . . a different breed.

soon, he sits back down, lying his head down, trying to catch his breath.

“so kyungsoo,” i look over to my brother who's back was facing me. i smile, though he couldn’t see it, “what’s the next thing on my birthday agenda?”

my smile was sarcastic, i didn’t really want to know – but it had to be at least a little fun. better than a boring, but tasty, breakfast. 

chanyeol perks his head up, his gaze at me turning supercilious with half-lidded eyes. he raises his nose in the air, his lips pursing as he smirks, “we’re going somewhere fun.”

i raise my eyebrow, “fun?” 

* * *

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

the three older men had taken me to the mall. 

i had never been to this mall, but i had heard of it from ads on the occasional newspaper i read (and stole from kyungsoo). 

it was the times square mall – it was one of the largest malls in south korea. i swore i’d get lost there if i ever went there, and now that i’m there, i had an even larger feeling that i’d get lost somewhere in this mall. 

kyungsoo steps forward, his hands on his hips. “so baek,” he turns to me, mocking my tone that i had used earlier that morning when i asked him what was next to do on my birthday, “where do you want to go first?” he asked me.

“uh,” i gulped. 

like i said – i had never been there before so how was i supposed to know where to go?

“shouldn’t we go in order around the mall?” asks sehun, stepping forward like my brother had done moments before, “starting from the left, go around the first floor, then come back here at the end and head to the second floor?” he suggested. he was smart.

“that sounds like too much work,” chanyeol whined.

sehun glares at him. “stop complaining, you hag.” and apparently, witty, too.

kyungsoo looks over to his boyfriend, “let’s do sehun’s idea.” and chanyeol makes an offended gasp.

“oh come on!” chanyeol folded over a bit, slouching. “now you’re just being biased!” he pouts, crossing his arms as he stands up straight again.

i let out a laugh, nudging him.

“it’s okay, you big baby.” 

just those five words made him smile again, and he began to roll my wheelchair forward, catching up with my brother and his boyfriend who had already walked away.

by the time we made it back to the entrance so we could go upstairs, sehun carried four bags while chanyeol carried six. kyungsoo pushed my wheelchair, as our “henchmen” carried our bags for us. we felt special.

i felt . . . really happy.

i noticed chanyeol was breathing more heavily than sehun – he looked really tired. i stopped the wheelchair, confusing my brother. “yeol,” i call to him, and he stops walking next to me, looking down with a confused face like kyungsoo, “let me hold a couple of them. you’re straining yourself.”

sehun stared at me, i could sense it. chanyeol’s face shifted into a small curve of his lips. “i’ll let you hold two – can you handle it?” cocky bastard.

“oh, i was born handling this shit,” i say, and i could hear kyungsoo let out a chuckle. he was happy i was being more social, and frankly, i was, too. 

“shouldn’t we stop by the food court for lunch before we head upstairs?” sehun cleared his throat, looking behind kyungsoo. it was the entrance to the food court, in bright and big letters. and as the fact the only fast food i had ever had was mcdonald’s, i really wanted to try something new.

i nod, “hell yeah!” 

* * *

we stayed there for another three hours before heading home.

kyungsoo and sehun had headed upstairs to have their own time together, which was for sure just them laying on the bed, reading books in complete silence. 

chanyeol and i were on the porch, the sky turning dark with stars appearing. the moon was bright, and the air was warm, as it was the month of may. he stood, leaning over on the fence surrounding the large porch of the farmhouse that kyungsoo and i lived.

his leg popped out, one knee bent. his arms crossed as they stayed put on the fence. i sat in my wheelchair next to the table right in front of the window in the living room. 

with _lord of the flies_ in my hands, i continued to read as he watched the darkened scenery in front of us.

“did you enjoy your birthday?” 

i perk my head up from my book, humming in response. i tilt my head, “what?” i ask, wanting him to repeat what he had said. 

“did you enjoy your birthday?” his tone was dark, saddened. he sounded like he was crying, but from where i was sitting, i couldn’t even see his face. 

“i did,” i nod to myself, “i really did.”

but, he didn’t reply. 

it was so silent between us, i could even hear crickets down at the pond near the large tree next to the white fence. the chickens were already in their coup, and the cows and sheep were in the barn where they slept during the night. the pond was right inside of the fence, the grass surrounding it was tall, which meant kyungsoo had to mow soon.

chanyeol’s truck was parked just outside the entrance to the barn, and kyungsoo’s ultima was parked right next to it. i glance back at chanyeol, his body was tense underneath his clothes.

“do you not love me anymore?”

i hear a slight gasp leave his mouth after i ask that question. 

“you were fine earlier – but now you seem cold – what’s wrong?” i ask, almost eagerly. 

he straightens his stance, scoffing. “you used to do it for me,” said chanyeol.

“one day i did that,” i rebuked, and my eyes caught it when he flinched from how stern my voice had become in only seconds, though at the time, i payed no attention to it much, if at all, “and if i did it later on, i’m sorry – actually, no i’m not.”

i furrow my eyebrows, feeling my inner anger boil up, “i’ve been paralyzed since i was five years old, chanyeol. both my parents left before i turned ten years old.” my jaw clenched, “you don’t know how it feels to be home for the last twelve years, where the only friends i’ve ever had are both a small amount in total and only lasted a month or two.” i feel my skin crawling, my teeth grinding against each other, “you don’t get to treat me like this when you have nothing to be sad about in your happy, outgoing life.” i grunt, “and don’t even try to lie to me. i know how you were in high school, kyungsoo’s told me everything.” i scoff, shaking my head as i cross my arms, “so what the fuck is wrong with you?!” i curse at him, shouting at him now.

“i’m scared i’ll lose you.”

my eyes widen, gasping. 

“you’re the love of my life, baekhyun. just the thought of losing you burns my soul and ruins me.” he said as his body turned slowly. “you’re funny and beautiful and kind and sensitive – and you care – you care so much about me – and i love you so much – i don’t know i was able to live twenty seven years without you.” he was rambling. rambling about how much he loved me. 

i rolled my wheelchair over closer to him – i wasn’t thinking. i grabbed onto the fence and pulled myself up, and then i grabbed onto him, holding onto him for dear life, though i knew he could hold me with ease. i feel his arms snake around my thin body, and my chin stays put on his shoulder.

“b-baekie, w-what are y-you doing?” he stammers. 

i sniffle, trying not to cry even though my tears were already forming at the ends of my eyes. 

“i love you so goddamn much, chanyeol.” i cry out, my grip on him tightening. i could feel his heart beating in his chest. “one day i’ll be able to walk again and i need you to be there for me.” i say softly, “please promise you’ll be there when i can walk again.”

i know we had gotten together fast, but there’s a lot of people out there who do that all the time. faster that chanyeol and i, too. we became close for a month and a half, then got together. then another month passed and here we are. he’s treated me so well, though i have nothing to compare to it as he’s the only person i have ever dated. 

he snakes his arms even more around me, hiding his face into my neck as he held me. my feet weren’t even on the ground, though, i could barely feel anything in my legs now anyways.

but i smile, as i hear him whisper one last thing.

“i promise.”

* * *

“kyungsoo, i said i’m fine.”

“you sure?” asks my brother. 

we were getting ready to head to a restaurant where we were going with chanyeol and sehun at. it was a nice restaurant, but of course, i had never been there.

chanyeol and sehun were in their own cars, waiting for us to finish getting ready so we could go to the restaurant – and i still don’t know how they’re being so patient with us.

before we left the house, kyungsoo turned to me with a grin. “you look nice,” he said. 

i turn to him, glancing at him for just a moment, but then i turn back to facing forward. “thank you,” i reply quietly, and i roll out through the front door. 

it had been a week since my birthday – chanyeol and i haven’t spoken about that night. our somewhat of an argument. i didn’t show that i was still angry inside, as i hid it away with a mask made of fake emotions and lies – it was to protect him. or so i thought it was.

it took about forty minutes to arrive there at the restaurant. it was a very fancy place – i felt a little underdressed to be honest. we got our table and got situated. we all began looking through the menus, chanyeol leaning over to sehun to make jokes about the name of some meal on the menu which just caused sehun to roll his eyes at him.

sehun was a different kind of person – he wasn’t like anyone i had met, or read about in a story or even seen in a movie. he was cold, straightforward and broad. he was witty, never afraid to speak his mind – plus, he was extremely formal and fancy – it scared me a bit.

he always wore sharp suits and sweaters with long-sleeve collared shirts underneath. his wardrobe consists of tuxedos and business suits, then it goes to these rich boy college student type outfits with long sleeve white collared shirts that you put a patterned sweater over it with some khaki pants and chains. sehun was pretty rich . . . but he did own the city’s newspaper, even though he lived in a messy, disastrous apartment with my boyfriend.

i look over at the said male, “hey sehun?” i say.

he perks his head up slightly, his thin glasses sitting on his nose firmly. his nose and below on his face hide behind the menu which he held in his hands. “yes?” he replies.

i glance around, seeing as my brother had left to use the restroom for the time being. i gulp, then i turn back to sehun. “when do you plan to propose to my brother?”

chanyeol chokes on his drink, coughing as he pounded on his chest, but it was harder than i had seen anyone ever do – it was like he was trying not to die from just choking on some coca cola.

sehun jumps from my questioning, and he clears his throat. “s-soon,” he nods slowly, and he fixes his posture, “i plan to propose by our one year anniversary.” he grabs his glass off the table, lifting it and raising it to his lips, tilting it a bit as he takes a large sip of his icy water.

i smile, “good.” 

kyungsoo returns, and he takes a seat next to me again. “has the waiter been by to take our orders for our food?” he asks, pulling the seat closer to the table.

i shake my head, “no, not yet.” and subtly, a hand is placed on mine on top of the table. it was sehun, and i met eye contact with him. his eyes spoke to me – i could read his expression so clearly, and i understand what was happening. i turn my hand over, and he places a small box into my hand. i close my hand, my fingers curling over the small box before he takes his hand off mine.

i pull my hand back, sliding the box into my pocket as subtle as possible. 

“i think i want the top special,” kyungsoo points to a spot on the menu, showing his boyfriend. sehun nods.

“good choice,” said sehun, “i had that the previous time i came here – it was astonishing. i believe you’ll like it.” and he kissed kyungsoo’s hand before holding his hand gently. 

you get what i mean by “formal” now?

sehun was like a prince but in the 2000’s. it was crazy – but kyungsoo loved it, even though chanyeol constantly mocked him, and i just laughed along with it.

kyungsoo looks at me. “baek, do you know what you want?” 

i look at the menu again. everything was so fancy – with the names even fancier. were we in france? did they take me to france without telling me? – _why was it so FANCY?!_

i had never even been in a restaurant before – not even a fast food restaurant. i looked underdressed, uneducated – i felt uncomfortable and awkward. 

“um,” i gulp, skimming through the pages of the menu. there was nothing that wasn’t fancy except – “can i have this?” i reach my menu over to him, pointing at something. his face shifts into a bit of confusion, but smiles and nods.

the waiter approaches, “could i take your orders?” 

kyungsoo says his order, then sehun, then chanyeol, and ultimately me. i felt my shoulders shiver, but as i went to speak, kyungsoo took my menu and opened it up. “could you get this for him? – and a plate of mine also?” the waiter nods, and writes it down before he walks away.

sehun glances at me, an uneven demeanor displayed on his thin facial structure. sehun was probably the most attractive man i had ever seen – excluding chanyeol, of course. sehun was . . . yeah, he was definitely a prince. i wouldn’t be shocked if he came out and said he was a prince at this point – as long as my brother becomes rich from marrying a prince so i could use the money on books and things for chanyeol.

“how’s the uh,” sehun laughs before clearing his throat, fixing his posture, “chicken?”

oh yeah, the chicken.

sehun was talking about my new pet – “coup.” he’s my pet chicken now, living inside kyungsoo and i’s house. it has only been three days since we let him in the house, and sehun wasn’t very fond of it – he just got a huge kick out of it. 

“he’s doing fine,” said kyungsoo. he wasn’t very fond of coup either. 

i look at chanyeol, “yeol, you think we should make a bed for coup when we get back?” i ask him excitedly, and he looks back at me. his demeanor was normal – bland. i hated it.

“sure.” i watched as he turned his head away. the silence between us was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. i hated it. 

i grab his hand under the table suddenly, he jumps from the sudden touch. his bangs swing in the air as he turns his head back to me almost immediately. he stares slightly down at me, his eyes shiny. was he . . . crying?

“yeol,” i whisper, raising my hand to place it against his cheek. he stares at me, tears falling down his cheeks like two streams. “talk to me,” i say, “what’s going on?”

chanyeol opens his mouth to speak, but he becomes choked up. kyungsoo and sehun had both turned to look at us by now, i could feel their eyes glued on us. 

“i-i-i-i,” he hiccups, “i-i don’t w-want t-t-to l-lose y-y-you.” he was a stuttering mess, and just hearing him speak like that made my heart crumble and shatter. 

i pull him into a kiss, not even realizing i did until mid-kiss. i pull away and smile up at him. “you’re not going to lose me, yeol,” i reassure him with a soft voice. “i promise you won’t.”

funny, how ironic that was.

* * *

for the next couple of weeks, it was quiet.

weirdly quiet – it felt like i was at the library again – even though i’ve only left the farm less than six times since the day i met chanyeol. it was . . . once at the zoo, the hospital, sehun and chanyeol’s apartment, the restaurant, and before that, it was the day i went to the market and the library. after ten years, this is the most active i’ve been. it felt odd, but that wasn’t much of a surprise.

kyungsoo was at work with sehun (yeah, i forgot sehun was his boss, too) while chanyeol was at home with me. it was about 4:30pm, close to when the couple were supposed to get off of work. that day was long, but it was fun. chanyeol and i read a couple books together, watched tv for a bit, went outside with coup to get some fresh air, and relaxed in the house for the rest of the day.

chanyeol lay on the couch, his back propped up against the arm rest as he held a book in between his long fingers. his legs were slightly crossed, but they were so long – he was so tall. 

i sat next to the couch in my wheelchair like always, reading my own book that i held with both of my hands. i skim the pages closely, reading carefully, imagining everything that was happening in the story in my mind. i look over to him, pressing my thumb into the middle of the book, holding my place as i gently closed the book on top of my thumb.

my lips curve into a small smile. “i love you so much.”

he doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay fixated on his book. though, his eyes squint and crinkle as he grins, “i love you more, baekie.” his voice was cocky, a short chuckle growled in his throat. 

i lean over and kiss his temple before opening my book again, reading it and finishing the chapter i was on. even though it wasn’t the first time i had read this story. i was rereading kyungsoo’s book, _where the wind blows at sunrise_. it was my favorite book, what could i say?

“i’m sure kyungsoo’s not cooking tonight,” he knew our schedule so well, “do you want me to call for pizza?” he asks. it was thursday – kyungsoo never cooked on thursdays. it was a weird thing that he started doing, but i think it was because thursdays were his busiest days and he usually wanted to relax in the evening instead of cooking dinner, just for me and him.

but, now that i think of it, chanyeol’s been staying almost every night for the past week so there’s a chance he’d cook tonight, even if that chance was slim.

chanyeol shrugs, “you never know with him,” he says, flipping the page in his book. his eyes were still fixated on the printed words on those thin, weirdly textured pages. he reaches one of his hands over to me and places it on my thigh, as if to show that he’s still paying attention to me as he reads his book – i didn’t even know the name of it.

i lean forward, looking at the front cover of it. “issues” by unknown. huh.

i take the book from his hands, confusing him as he lay there. “hey!” he exclaims, confused from my sudden actions. i show him the back of it, “i wanted to see what it was about,” i tell him before i flipped the book back over so i could see the summary on the back of the book.

_with a couple problems up his sleeves, being a senior in high school (shockingly) isn’t a problem for mark – but after going to the first party of his senior year, he meets his new boyfriend who’s amazing at making out, and reunites with a boy from his past that brings back great memories and even greater old feelings – but that shouldn’t be much of a problem, right?_

_in this novel based in 2025, markus lee and his huge group of friends venture through their own problems and issues – with drama erupting almost every week and old fiends of the past coming back to terrorize them, it’s up to them to make it through – even if a couple don’t._

“wow,” i let out a breathy chuckle, “sounds really interesting.” i hand him his book back, and he takes it from my hands with a grin.

“it’s really good,” said chanyeol with a toothy grin. “there’s fifteen chapters – i’m on chapter thirteen.” he opens his book back to the page he was on, “i’m at the end of it where my favorite character dies – it’s really sad.”

i frown, “i’m sorry.” i tell him, but he just reaches his hand over to my face, squishing my cheeks with his fingers as his palm light grazes against my chin. 

“why are you sorry, baekie?” he asks, his thumb rubbing against my soft cheek. “stop apologizing so much, okay? – nothing’s ever your fault.”

those four words. _nothing’s ever your fault_. they circled my brain like a train stuck on a circular track going fifty miles per hour. as much as i wanted to believe him, i just couldn’t.

chanyeol jumped up quickly when the phone began to ring from the entrance corridor to the house. it scared me a bit, but it totally caught chanyeol off guard as he was previously holding my face, making my cheeks pink as he stared into my eyes with those chocolate ones of his own.

“it’s just the phone,” i laugh as he gets up, letting out a short growl at me then he laughs.

he walks out of the room. i follow him, rolling forward. when i entered the entrance corridor, he had just picked up the phone, making it stop ringing, though it still echoed for a second after it stopped. i didn’t know why it did, maybe it was because it was such a clean house. nothing was blocking the echoes.

“this is park chanyeol of the do residence.” 

he made it sound like he lived here – which he pretty much did from how much he stays here a week. i roll up close to him, but i could barely hear whoever was speaking on the phone.

but as moments pass. i watch as chanyeol’s cheerful expression slowly dropped. his lips bended into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing and creasing. his eyes were widening – what was he being told? i felt like i was on the edge of my seat.

“thank you,” chanyeol said with a cough, “we’ll be there in just a few.” he hangs up the phone, hearing it click into place before he steps back, almost stumbling. 

i reach my hands out, “yeol? are – are you alright?” i ask him. 

he looks behind me, as if he didn’t want to make eye contact with me. “we – we have to get to the h-hospital immediately.” he gulps, his mouth feeling dry – but i could see his chapped lips from where i sat in my wheelchair. his face was almost completely pale – he looked nauseous.

“why?” i ask, raising one of my eyebrows. i roll forward, and chanyeol doesn’t even glance at me. what was going on?

chanyeol fell to his knees suddenly, tears were streaming down his face – i didn’t even notice them forming. it was so quick, out of nowhere. i had never seen him like this, and that scared me so bad. chanyeol wasn’t the type to cry – he was the type to cheer you up and make you laugh with his stupid jokes that make zero sense but always seem to make you roar with laughter.

even though he did cry at the restaurant – but i knew – he was worried about me.

as much as i loved him, watching him sit on his knees, crying his eyes out in front of me without telling me what had happened – i couldn’t speak to comfort him. and to this day, i regret that.

he wipes his nose with his sleeve, and he looks up at me, but doesn’t meet eye contact. he stares at my chest – as if i was a woman with boobs.

(no offense to any women out there, of course. i love you all.)

but what he said wasn’t what i was expecting at all. it was . . . quite the opposite. it made my heart burn.

“kyungsoo and sehun got in a car accident.”

* * *

i remember we rushed into the emergency room.

we looked around frantically, wanting to find them. 

there were doctors and nurses everywhere – we didn’t exactly know who to talk to. thankfully, a nurse approached us, confused by our demeanors – and the wheelchair i sat in just added on to her already concerned expression. 

“can i help you?” she asks. she was an old lady, but something about her reminded me of something – but i couldn’t figure it out. 

chanyeol nods quickly, “i-i got a call that my friends were in a car a-accident.” he told the nurse, his eyes were frozen. 

“what’s your name?”

“park chanyeol.” he looks at me, but he avoids eye contact with me, “this is do kyungsoo’s half-brother, byun baekhyun.” 

the nurse stares at me, almost glaring. she squints those round, but thin, eyes at me before she leans back a bit, giving me an uneven smile. “i’ll go get dr. zhang.” she turns and walks off.

i gulp harshly, my throat hurting. my hands grip the armrests of my wheelchair, i could feel my heart racing. so many thoughts ran through my mind all at once.

_was kyungsoo hurt? was sehun hurt? are they dying? am i going to lose them both?_

after a few moments, a tall, almost anorexic doctor approaches us. his thin glasses sat on his nose, and his dark brown hair was neatly combed back. he was very professional looking. something i could never be. 

“i’m dr. zhang, are you park chanyeol?” he asks my boyfriend. his voice, shockingly, wasn’t that deep. it took me off guard, but then again, not everyone is exactly what they seem.

chanyeol nods, shaking the man’s hand. “i am, this is my boyfriend, baekhyun.” 

dr. zhang looks at me, and he gives me a smile. it was sincere – it wasn’t fake at all. 

“please, come with me.” he ushers us to a private room – a meeting room. i rolled up to the table, and chanyeol sat down next to me at the table. dr. zhang sat across from us, and he connected his hands formally, setting them on the table. 

he clears his throat, “mr. byun,” he says, flashing his glasses at me, “you are mr. do’s brother, am i correct? – and mr. park is your boyfriend?” he questions me.

i hesitate, but i nod. “yes sir,” i reply.

dr. zhang nods once before looking at the paper in front of him. “in the accident, mr. do suffered a head injury at first impact, which caused his brain to swell and bleed . . .” 

he lets out a sigh, i could tell it was hard for him to say this to someone like me. “we got him stable and took him up to surgery immediately.” dr. zhang explains to us. 

i smiled – he was okay. _at least i thought he was._

“i’m so sorry, but we did everything we could.”

but i wasn’t expecting that. 

chanyeol leaned forward, his elbows on the table as he covered his face with his large hands. “oh god . . . oh god . . .” he muttered, shaking his head. 

he exhales, trying to keep himself from crying – even though this was a sad moment. a truly depressing moment that we were meant to cry in – and i say that as two rivers are streaming down my face. i couldn’t move. 

“h-he’s dead?” i ask.

dr. zhang, avoiding eye contact with me, nods his head. “i am so sorry for your loss.” and he was. i could sense the true sincerity in his voice. he really was sorry, and i forgave him in that moment. he wasn’t being manipulative or careless. he wasn’t faking it either.

he actually cared. 

he was a good doctor, after all. just not a good enough one who could save my brother.

“what about sehun?” i blurt out. i didn’t even notice that my voice was choking up, hiccuping as i was crying and sobbing – though i looked so normal – like a crying statue. 

dr. zhang fixes his posture, “he’s in surgery right now. the injuries he sustained were, to an extent, worse than y-your brother’s – though, with his stable condition, he was able to stay conscious for a while – he should make a good recovery, though it might be hard, from his injuries.”

not once did he even mention what sehun’s injuries were, but i didn’t even realize that i didn’t even feel sad about kyungsoo’s death, it felt as if i was crying a whole ocean and more.

“what were his injuries?” i ask, crooking my neck at the doctor. he was a cardiothoracic surgeon, and his appearance – i’m sure a lot of patients swooned over him.

dr. zhang flipped through the pages of sehun’s chart. “sprained wrist,” he flipped another page, “we had to do an amputation of his left forearm and his left foot as they were stuck at the scene, and if they didn’t amputate, he would’ve been a goner.” he sighs and flips another page, clearing his throat, “he was also burned from gasoline that was pouring on him from inside the car, and when they were cutting the car door off with a saw, one of the sparks hit the gasoline and it began to burn him. we were able to water him down. his burns weren’t too bad, so they should be healed up soon – this means he’ll have to stay here at the hospital for a while in order to recover.”

“that’s fine,” i tell him, “as long as he recovers, i’m fine with anything.”

chanyeol grips my hand from under the table. i could feel his pulse from his wrist. his best friend was in so much pain, and i understood that he wasn’t paying much attention to me.

i know my brother had died, but we still had sehun left. that was what mattered right now – if kyungsoo was here, he’d want us to take care of sehun, and cry about him later. 

and as much as sehun was self-centered and formal, he was spiritual and caring. 

he took care of my brother – he deserves for us to be there for him in this terrible time for him. he’s in . . . worst pain that i had ever experienced, physically and mentally.

he lost his forearm and a foot – his skin was burned, scarring him. forever reminding him of this terrible day where he lost two parts of two separate limbs and the love of his life.

and i knew at that moment.

my heart was beating fast.

it then hit me that kyungsoo was gone.

“i-i can’t believe he’s – he’s gone.” hiccuped, raising my hand to my chest. i grip my shirt, crumbling it in my hand. i began to hyperventilate – and chanyeol turned to me so quickly.

“baek, baek, look at me–” but i shook my head, moving away from him as he tried to hug me. i could feel dr. zhang’s stare, which he then turned away and stood up. 

“i’ll leave you two be,” and he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“baekhyun,” chanyeol called my name, holding my arms. “look at me,” but i continue to shake my head.

“no!” i shout, “i want kyungsoo! i want my brother!” i cry out. i faced my head down as i shook from his grasp, but he was strong and he kept his grip on me, even though i continued to try and get out of his grip. i stop shaking, my hands still gripping the shirt on my chest.

“why did he have to leave?” i whisper, sniffling as i calm down. “he left me, yeol, h-he left . . .”

chanyeol hums, taking one of his hands off my arms and places it on the side of my face, “i know, honey,” he chokes up slightly. he couldn’t even be comforting without almost crying himself.

i shake my head again.

kyungsoo was my brother. he was the only person who knew me the best. not even chanyeol knew everything about me, and i didn’t want him to.

but kyungsoo – he knew without me even saying anything to him. we grew up together, despite our nine year age difference. he cared for me, took custody of me when my parents divorced and left both of us behind like we were trash.

kyungsoo spent the last eighteen years years taking care of me. he was too good of a person to go so soon, and i will forever hate him for leaving before me. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair.

we were supposed to be there for each other, but he left me behind like our eighteen years together as brothers, as best friends, as family, meant nothing to him – even though it wasn’t his exact choice to die or not.

it wasn’t right to hold it against him, but i couldn’t help it. he left me. 

it sounds selfish, but kyungsoo was gone.

i would never taste his cooking anymore. i would never see him smile again. i would never hear his jokes again. i would never get to hug him again. i would never get to read books with him. i’d never get to hear his voice again.. i would never . . .

i never got to tell him how much he means to me.

i raise my head, and i look at chanyeol, but before i spoke again, i looked at the windows of the meeting room. nurses and doctors, patients and visitors were all staring in, wondering what was happening inside the room chanyeol and i were in.

but all it was just an 18-year-old boy crying his eyes out for his older brother who had just died, refusing the comfort of his own boyfriend.

kyungsoo was gone. he was dead. 

i kept repeating it in my head. he was gone. my brother was gone. 

i couldn’t get myself to calm down – i knew i was scaring chanyeol half to death.

i knew i could hide my feelings in the future, to protect chanyeol from my mourning sorrows. i didn’t want to lash out at him – i didn’t want to hurt him ever again.

but i knew, the words i spoke next hurt chanyeol. i was only speaking the truth, but in this situation, i knew chanyeol saw it as a cry for help. and honestly, it was.

“i was supposed to go first.” 

* * *

for the next two weeks, i became mute.

i couldn’t speak – and i didn’t even want to speak. 

chanyeol continued to keep my company, trying to comfort me and take care of me like kyungsoo always would – but he knew he would never be as good as my brother. 

i loved chanyeol – i still did. i fell more in love with him everyday, even if my decreasing mental health wouldn’t let me tell him that. i worried so much about him, though my throat would never let me speak the words i wanted to say to the love of my life.

i regretted that so much. 

“baekhyun, do you want spaghetti or pork?” he holds up two boxes as he enters the living room where i sat, just silent, reading a book. one box was spaghetti noodles, and the other box was a pork dinner for two. i point to the pork, and he gives me a toothy grin. “good choice – it’ll be done in a few.” he was still happy. he was happy for me, though i knew he was dying inside.

unfortunately, i had a terrible plan for that night.

one that would hurt him more than anything.

though, (i thought) it would ease my suffering.

chanyeol walks back into the kitchen. he had moved in with me, sold the apartment that he shared with sehun so he could pay for sehun’s medical bills. but, sehun was the least of my worries at the moment.

it was kyungsoo’s funeral tomorrow. i’m not going. if i went there, i wouldn’t be able to handle my inner pain that became bigger and bigger each day without kyungsoo in my life anymore.

but my plan – it would work out with me not going. or, i thought it would at least.

“baek!” i hear my boyfriend call for me from the kitchen, “come and sit at the table! i’m about to make our plates!” i could hear the joy in his voice.

i loved him so much.

ha, _loved_.

i roll into the kitchen, up to the table where i usually sat for dinner, breakfast, and sometimes lunch.

he wore this red apron that he had bought at the mall back when we went there on my birthday. ever since that day, chanyeol has made sure i know he loves me.

especially after kyungsoo’s death.

chanyeol turns around, holding a plate of the pork dinner in each hand – “you ready for dinner?” and i nod.

we begin to eat dinner, i hum as i chew the pork. it was really good, i couldn’t believe it. i look up from my plate, cocking my head at him. he looks up, frozen as he stares at me with a mouth full of pork. such a dork.

“what?” he asks, covering his mouth with a hand as he continued to chew the pork while he spoke. “is it bad?” i shake my head. “it’s good?” i nod.

he clicks his tongue, “good!” he exclaims, swallowing the pork. he was so proud of himself.

he stabs the pork with his fork, holding his chopsticks in his other hand. “you know,” he begins to say, sighing as he broke a piece off of the pork, “your brother taught me to cook every night i stayed here.” he smiles to himself, “i’m glad my cooking’s paying off.”

my finger begins to tap on the table anxiously.

“i had a plan.”

chanyeol looks up at me, his eyes wide. he scratches his ear, trying to make sure he heard me right.

“w-what?” he stutters.

i bite my bottom lip.

“i wanted to commit suicide tonight,” i said to him, i could hear him gasp from where i sat, “i wanted to die and see him again – i don’t want to be alive, yeol.” 

chanyeol’s pupils danced. “b-baek . . .” 

“i wanted to leave you behind like kyungsoo did to me,” i said, my fists clenching, “and i-i-i can’t do that because i-i l-love you s-so much.” i hitch my breath. “i don’t want to ever lose you.” i tell him with a shaky voice, “and i don’t want you to ever lose me either.” 

he got up and walked around to my side of the table. he grabs my face and kisses me. it was just like our first kiss. it was meaningful, passionate, just like every time our lips meet. he was . . . my soulmate.

i just knew he was.

* * *

a week passed, and we visited sehun.

it was now august – warm, beautiful august.

the times we had last came to visit, he was still in this coma, looking as if he’d never wake up. it didn’t worry me too much, as i knew that while he’s in a coma, he won’t be able to feel the pain he’d feel when he wakes up.

ever since he got out of surgery the day of the accident, he’s been in a stupid coma – the doctors didn’t even know if he’ll wake up or not. it was a lot to take in, especially from the loss of my brother. i’m glad he’s in a better place now. he deserves it.

chanyeol pushed my wheelchair into the hospital. some nurses looked at us with a smile, but that one nurse kept looking at me with this disgusted expression. 

it was the nurse we spoke to the day of the accident. the one who seemed familiar to me. 

“morning,” greeted dr. zhang as he turned around, previously talking to a nurse, “i see you two are early today.” he gives chanyeol a solid grin, and his teeth appear when he looks at me. “oh, by the way, the lunch today – it’s chicken sandwiches.” and he walked away with the same grin he gave chanyeol and i. 

i tilt my head. “huh?” why would he tell us what lunch was that day?

chanyeol shrugged it off. “maybe he thinks we’ll get hungry on the way out.” such an aloof person he could be when everything seemed fine – which it was. weirdly.

i turn the doorknob of sehun’s hospital room, pushing it open as chanyeol guides my wheelchair inside the room. i hear a voice, and as we walked passed the corner wall (which was the bathroom right there near the door (i don’t know why either, i figured it would’ve been closer to the patient’s bed). but i wasn’t expecting what i saw there in front of me.

oh sehun. sitting up, talking to someone.

he . . . he was awake.

and talking. like . . . he was okay.

“sehun?” i gasp out, and chanyeol stops pushing my wheelchair – he practically runs to sehun’s bedside, hugging sehun roughly and tightly. i roll myself forward, smiling as i approach the other side of the bedside. 

“i thought i was going to lose you, too,” he whispered. clutching sehun’s hospital gown on his back. sehun pats his back, a small smile curving on his lips as he tightens the hug slightly.

“i’m not going anywhere,” said sehun softly. 

the skin on sehun’s face was burnt, scarred. he looked as if someone tried to cook half of his body. his back was covered with even more burned skin, along with the arm he had left and his chest – the entire torso.

he had a stump for both his right arm and left leg. i knew this would emotionally scar him for the rest of his life – he could never write again – unless he learns how to write with his left hand (though sehun hates leftists).

chanyeol pulled away from the hug, still starstruck and stuck in disbelief that sehun was sitting up and talking. it wasn’t a dream. it wasn’t some hoax – some faker – an imposter. it was really him, but . . . it just seemed too good to be true.

“when did you wake up from the coma?” chanyeol asks eagerly.

“last night,” sehun answered, “i wondered where you guys were – and how i even got here. they said you two should be the ones to inform me on what happened,” and he looks around – he was looking for kyungsoo, i knew he was – “where’s soo?”

oh no.

“oh, um, sehun,” i stammer, not really knowing how to tell him, but chanyeol hushes me suddenly, and he sits on the hospital bed next to sehun.

“do you remember the accident?” chanyeol hesitantly asked, his hand placed on the bed beside him. sehun gives him a nod. i watch chanyeol gulp. “kyungsoo got some really bad injuries, and, um,” 

“is he here at the hospital? recovering? is there any possibility i could go see him?” he was so eager to see kyungsoo – i then realized kyungsoo meant so much to sehun, even though he didn’t show it much from his cold outlook. 

“sehun . . .” i whisper, rolling forward a bit, but chanyeol shakes his head at me before he turns back to our friend with a serious, but saddened and empathetic demeanor. 

“kyungsoo and you came here to this hospital,” said chanyeol, “he had a huge injury to his brain, and in just moments, his brain swelled and bled out.” he almost choked on his words. this wasn’t easy for him to tell sehun – especially since sehun was kyungsoo’s boyfriend.

sehun sat there, his eyes frozen. “are you saying he’s . . .”

chanyeol nodded slightly, wiping his nose as he sniffled, “kyungsoo’s gone,” his voice broke as he tried to hold back the tears, “i’m so sorry, sehun.” 

“i-i-i-i c-c-can’t b-b-believe it.” sehun’s stuttering was worse than mine ever was – it took me off guard.

_“you and sehun are strangely more alike than you think,” said kyungsoo, a cup of coffee in his hand._

_it was a sunday morning – i sat with him in the living room as he awaited for sehun to finish getting ready for their brunch date at the park. that’s what they did every sunday. it was cute, but chanyeol and i could never do that kind of thing so often._

_“believe me, baekhyun – you two are similar in a lot of ways you wouldn’t expect.”_

i’m guessing sehun’s almost unintelligible stuttering is what kyungsoo meant by ways i wouldn’t expect us to be similar. 

“the driver,” chanyeol began to say, he cleared his throat and fixed his posture, “he paid us 40 billion won.”

i widen my eyes – _i_ didn’t even know that.

but it would make sense why the driver paid us that amount of money. for the damage of the car, sehun’s medical bills, and kyungsoo’s almost instant death.

“he wanted to put this behind us, in a respectful way. he paid us, and said he will continue to pay money monthly to us for however old baekhyun’s brother was.” 

i spoke, “27.” 

sehun stared at his lap. “. . . three hundred and twelve months.” _was he a math genius or something?_

chanyeol reaches for sehun’s slender and boney hand. the only one he had left. “we got you, sehun.” 

those words made him smile, but it was a sad smile – although, he was glad chanyeol and i were there in this terrible time for him. 

i’m just glad he’s better now.

but . . . that didn’t last long.

* * *

a week later, sehun was put on a ventilator.

a machine that would breathe for him, which i knew sehun hated as he lay there, not able to speak, unable to breathe on his own.

he had a stroke – it caused his lungs to collapse. 

the doctor advised us to keep him company, tell him what’s going on in a less worryful way – to keep him calm. but that was the least of our worries.

sehun was dying. 

there was no way of explaining how or why it was happening – but it was – and sehun was going to die.

_“he got better before he got worse,” said dr. zhang with a sentimental frown, closing his chart folder, “i’m sorry, my friends, i can’t do anything else to help him. his chart says nothing that could have caused him to have that stroke. i wish i could help him, i really do.”_

dr. zhang was a really good guy – remarkingly good. we actually had dinner with him and his husband once. frankly, i didn’t even know gays could get married back in 2004 – but later, i remembered that dr. zhang married a woman, who later transitioned into a man. 

his husband was very nice. if i remember correctly, his name was junmyeon. and dr. zhang’s first name was yixing. chanyeol liked them both. they were good people. i hoped we wouldn’t lose them, too.

speaking of chanyeol, he was sitting in one of the visitors chairs in sehun’s hospital room. he was reading one of kyungsoo’s books out loud to sehun, even though he couldn’t hear him. 

i sat in my wheelchair, flipping through a magazine for fashion. it was boring, but commentating on the weird fashion styles of the early 2000’s made me chuckle a bit. 

i look up from the magazine after a bit, smiling at my boyfriend who sat there reading the book aloud. it wasn’t where the wind blows at sunrise – but it was instead another one of my favorites – white roses.

i don’t think chanyeol realized it, but that book was inspired by kyungsoo’s previous love for him. but nonetheless, it was funny to see chanyeol read a book about the author’s love for him to the author’s boyfriend. 

chanyeol catches my gaze from the corner of his eyes, a slight blush sweeps across his round cheeks. 

i roll over to him, looking at the page number he was on – page 24. the page before kyungsoo wrote in chanyeol’s perfect description in the main character’s perspective. 

_tall, dark brown hair with even darker pupils that are surrounded by a bright pool of white. he’s got fair looks, handsome was what he was called by anyone he spoke to – or even walked by. a deep, soothing voice, one that could give you chills when he spoke. his figure was thin, but he was muscular, strong enough to pick up a 90kg person with only one arm. the sense of humor of a comedian, the friendliness of a golden retriever, the golden heart of a hero. he was the perfect boy next door._

it matched him so well.

i wish he knew how good of a person he was.

i place my finger on the page after he turns the page. he looks at my finger, confused. “what?” he asks. he glances at me, then looks back at the book.

“him,” i say, pointing to the paragraph of his perfect description, “he’s you.” i say blankly.

“wha . . .” chanyeol didn’t understand. i moved my finger out of the way. his eyes skimmed the paragraph. he leaned back a bit, gulping. “did . . . did he _really_ feel this way about me?” he asks me. 

i nod. “he was in love with you, chanyeol.”

chanyeol thins his lips. he didn’t reply.

after a couple moments of silence, i turn away and face the floor. a sudden hand is placed on mine.

“i’m glad i was able to make him happy like i make you happy,” he gives me a warm smile. i loved him.

there’s a knock on the door. the door opens and dr. zhang, or yixing, enters the room. yixing had this hurt expression on his face – he didn’t have good news.

“hello,” he greeted. 

i furrow my eyebrows. “what’s wrong?”

yixing cleared his throat. “we believe it’s time to pull him off the ventilator.” but that didn’t sound good.

“is that bad . . . ?” i ask quietly. yixing nodded. 

“baekhyun, sehun had put you as his emergency contact and listed you as his family.” yixing informed us. “he did this the day before he had the stroke. he knew he wasn’t going to survive.” he hitched his breath.

i could feel my heart shattering inside my chest. 

“oh fuck – oh no.” chanyeol shook his head, covering his face with his large hands. i heard him sniffle.

yixing shook for a moment, feeling chills down his back as he stood there. “i’m so sorry, but it’s time, baek.”

i swallow hard, rolling over to yixing. he hands me a couple papers, and a nurse walks into the room. i sign the papers and hand them back to yixing. 

yixing stands next to me, and chanyeol walks over to sehun’s bedside. tears ran down his face, his thumb moving sehun’s hair out of his face. he placed his hand on his hand and stood there, tears falling off his cheeks. the nurse walks over, she turns off the heart monitor and gets ready to unplug the ventilator. 

“i love you, sehun,” chanyeol cried softly, caressing sehun’s cheek, “i’ll take care of him for you, sehun. don’t you worry, okay?” he presses his forehead against sehun’s forehead, “say hi to kyungsoo up in heaven for me when you get there.” 

against the palm of his hand, he felt sehun’s body relax. tears kept falling down chanyeol’s cheeks.

he was gone.

* * *

the funeral was almost empty.

apparently, sehun didn’t have any family left. chanyeol and i were there, along with his subordinates from his work. yixing and junmyeon were there, too.

it took me by surprise how old sehun was. he was going to turn thirty-three next april. 

i guess kyungsoo and i both liked older men.

the burial was silent. no one wanted to stay for it. i didn’t either – but i had to. for sehun. chanyeol couldn’t handle it so he headed back to the car, waiting for me.

i sat there in my wheelchair, staring at the six feet deep hole that sehun’s casket now lay in. the grave diggers had already begun to fill in the hole with dirt.

“baekhyun.”

i turn my head. it was just yixing.

“oh, yixing,” i give him a side smile, “hey.” i turn back to the hole. 

yixing sighs. he slides his hands into his pockets. “i’m so sorry you had to go through so much in just this lifetime, baekhyun.” he tells me.

“why are you sorry?” i ask him bluntly. “it wasn’t your fault. you had barely anything to do with it.” 

“still,” says yixing, “i’m sorry.” he turns around and walks away. “i’ll see you later, baekhyun.” 

i sit there, alone again.

just like i’m so used to being. 

but, i had a lover. 

my soulmate. my (almost) polar opposite.

the last person left that i truly loved.

* * *

we decided to do a yard sale. 

yeah, not much to really say about that.

in the house, we wanted to move all of kyungsoo and sehun’s things to the basement, but it was already so full from things from my childhood. like, everything from my childhood. and i didn’t want to have them anymore.

so it’d be best to have a yard sale so we could make some money while giving others our . . . _junk_. 

yeah, i know. it was a stupid concept.

after finishing up going through the basement, we looked through the house for other items we could sell. 

we enter my room last, as i knew it would take the longest from my sudden indecisive thoughts while looking for things to sell at the yard sale.

after a few moments, i’m sitting in my wheelchair in front of my bed, rummaging through an old box of polaroids. it was from when i was a little baby, up to when i was about five – before the accident.

the photos were good memories. i seemed like such a happy child. it surprised me, to say the least. 

i picked one up in particular and looked at it. i felt my face tense up as i examined it.

it was kyungsoo and i. the day of the accident. just moments before i was shot and paralyzed. kyungsoo held the rifle, and i held the bag of bullets (it was the only thing i could actually carry without tipping over). but then i saw a note on the back of it, written in sharpie.

i turn it around, skimming the back. i could feel my heart skipping beats, slowing as i read the note. i . . . i didn’t know what to say.

_it wasn’t dad._

_it was me._

_i’m so sorry, baek._

_d.k._

“you okay?” chanyeol asks suddenly, startling me.

i shake out of my thoughts, “huh? – oh, i’m fine,” i look back at the note, “just fine.”

the note – kyungsoo wrote it for me to find it someday – but i’m guessing he was expecting to be alive so i could confront him about it, but i wouldn’t even want to confront him if he was still alive.

i then understood what happened that day at the camping trip.

it wasn’t dad who shot me – it was kyungsoo. it was his first time shooting a gun, he was 14 at the time after all – and he was learning how to shoot that day so he could hunt with dad when it’s deer, or even duck season. but – they never went back to hunting after the incident.

dad – _his dad_ – began to abuse him for what had happened to me. it’s why the last words he said to me before he left us – “i’m sorry for hurting him.” he was apologizing to me for hurting kyungsoo for so long, just because of a stupid hunting accident. it wasn’t his fault either. he was smaller than the other boys his age – he could barely even hold the gun, let alone aim the damn thing. as i felt rage fuel inside me, i knew it was nothing to get mad over.

it was the past, after all.

“hey,” chanyeol turns to look at me, and i look back at him and notice a ring in his hands, the emerald ring, “what’s this?”

i glance down at the ring, “oh, it’s,” i clear my throat, “an emerald ring. cost about 17,000 won.” i answer, and he looks down at the ring.

“it’s beautiful,” said chanyeol, admiring it.

i smile, “yeah, kyungsoo–” i stopped talking, realizing the name i had just said. chanyeol stared at the ring before he turned to look at me, worried as he stood there, feeling like i would start crying, because of him.

i sit there for a moment, before i smile again.

“kyungsoo bought it for me the day i met you.” 

i watch as chanyeol’s eyebrows raise, his eyes becoming bigger than they already were. 

“he got it for me at the market that morning, before we went to the library – and i met you.” 

i had a sudden gut feeling, an idea blooming inside my head. 

i usher him to come closer, which he obliges and he sits down on the bed as i sit in my wheelchair next to it. “i do love you, park chanyeol,” i take the ring from his hands, “and i want to be with you forever.”

“are you proposing?” asks chanyeol, a toothy grin curves on his lips. it was somewhat of a smirk as well.

i nod, “yeah, i am.” 

the latter proposing to the older.

chanyeol takes the ring and places it on his ring finger. we were now engaged. he turned to me, smiling.

“i love you so much, baekhyun.”

i smile back, “i love you more, chanyeol.”

and i did.

* * *

for the next month and a half, chanyeol and i planned our wedding. 

it was nice, spending so much time figuring out how we were going to have our wedding, the day that’ll lead us to the rest of our lives. it was . . . amazing.

it was better than i felt when sehun and kyungsoo had both passed away – i was glad i still had the love of my life with me, so fucking glad.

i fell even more in love with him. the way his eyes would glow when he saw something with white roses. 

god, how much he loved white roses.

his bright, toothy smile that could light up an entire room. he was . . . godly.

i didn’t even believe in god, but he made me feel as if he did exist – chanyeol made me feel . . .

chanyeol made me fly high.

i continued to flip through the wedding catalogs, not finding anything good enough for the great dining room. but, at least i did find a priest who believed in gay marriage and could pless our marriage (legally). 

the phone begins to ring as we sat at the table. chanyeol grabbed it and answered the call. “hello, park-byun residence.” there’s silence, a couple hums from chanyeol, but a slowly curving smile appears on his face.

it kind of freaked me out.

“thank you, thank you! we’re on the way!” he says before he hangs up the phone. i stare at him with a raised eyebrow, my jaw agape. “get ready baekie!”

“for what?” i ask.

chanyeol giggles.

“you’re getting your bone marrow transplant.”

* * *

i think we got at least two speeding tickets on the way to the hospital that day. 

chanyeol was more excited than me, like always. he parked the car and we headed inside. after a bit of waiting, i was taken to my own hospital room, but as they took me there, i saw the number on the door.

it was sehun’s. 

chanyeol kissed my forehead, holding my hand. the emerald ring sat around his left ring finger. 

it was taking a long time, maybe three hours? maybe even four. chanyeol kept me company the entire time, playing games and talking and ready with me.

he was such a good person. 

but my mind was still racing with the thoughts of being able to walk again. i honestly couldn’t believe it. i was going to walk again after thirteen years of being paralyzed in a wheelchair. chanyeol was so happy for me, he was happier than i was.

“baekhyun,” yixing rushed in with a big smile on his face, “it’s time.” i look to chanyeol immediately.

he smiles at me, his eyes crinkling. “i’ll be waiting for you on the other side, baekie.” he squeezes my hand, and i nod at him. i pull him into a quick kiss before the nurses get the bed locked in, ready to go. i wave as i leave the room, and chanyeol waves back, still smiling.

 _that damn smile._ **_i’ll never forget it._ **

we made it to the operating room, they lay me on the bed on my back as they will flip me over onto my stomach during the surgery while under anesthesia.

yixing stands next to the bed as i lay. “you ready, pal?” yixing rubs my shoulders comfortingly. 

i nod. “ready as i’ll ever be.” i answered him, though i wasn’t very enthusiastic about it.

yixing nods. “count back from 10 for me, please.” 

i nod. “10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . .” the nurse placed the anesthesia mask on my face, my voice now muffled as i continued, “6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . .” and i was out.

* * *

“hyung! wait for me!”

i ran after my brother, laughing as we played tag. i was such an energetic kid at four years old. 

he ran around the corner, but i caught up quickly and tagged his back. “ah! you got me!” he exclaims, slowing his running down like i did. “damn, you’re fast, little bro.” he patted my head, rubbing my hair. 

“you should still join the running team!” i tell him, “you’re so fast, soo!” 

kyungsoo scoffs, shaking his head. “no, no, i’m really not.” he disagrees with me, but i knew he didn’t take compliments well. even though i was right.

“kyungsoo! baekhyun! dinner!” we hear our mother call from inside the house, specifically from the open kitchen window that we stood near.

“coming!” we call back out in unison before we run inside to eat our dinner, despite the muddy shoes on our feet getting the floors all dirty.

**i took away his speed.**

what?

**i took away his ability to walk.**

kyungsoo? is that you?

**i deserved the abuse. i deserved the harsh punishments. i deserved to be treated like scum.**

no, kyungsoo . . . it wasn’t your fault.

**i hurt the one person i cared most about.**

kyungsoo, stop.

**let me take care of him. i’ll take custody. you can leave. please, dad . . . mom already left. please just let me take care of him and try to make up for ruining his life before it even really began.**

no you didn’t – kyungsoo please.

**please just let me try.**

no . . . please . . . stop . . .

**kyungsoo tries his hardest to understand baekhyun, okay? he tries his hardest to take care of him for how much he “ruined his life,” even though it was an accident and baekhyun still loves him dearly.**

**baekhyun doesn’t know it was me, sehun.**

**it doesn’t matter, soo. no matter what, he’s going to love you. and chanyeol, you have to be there for him in ways kyungsoo can’t. take kyungsoo’s role.**

**sehun . . .**

**you’ve done the most you could ever do for him, kyungsoo. it’s time for you to retire.**

_what if he doesn’t love me back?_

**trust me, chanyeol. he does.**

_are you sure?_

**positive.**

_“i’ll be waiting for you on the other side, baekie.”_

chanyeol?

_“tell baekhyun i’ll be with kyungsoo and sehun.”_

what? what’s going on?

_“wake up!”_

huh?

_“wake up! wake up!_ **_WAKE UP!_ ** _”_

and my eyes fluttered open. it was blurry for a couple moments, but it cleared up and i saw a bright light above me, blinding me a bit so i squinted my eyes.

“yixing?” i gasp out, coughing harshly.

then a figure approaches me. it was yixing.

“ah, baekhyun, you’re awake!” he smiles, patting my head gently. “good news – the surgery went great.”

i struggle to smile, “r-really?” and yixing nods. i looked around, “w-where’s chanyeol?” he was nowhere to be seen, and i watched as yixing’s face dropped.

“well, your surgery lasted about fifteen hours alone – and then you didn’t wake up for almost twenty four hours a-and–”

“did he go home?” i interrupt him.

yixing’s eyes were filled with fear. 

“what?” i sit up slowly, and yixing backs up. “where is he? what’s wrong with your face?” i ask him.

yixing backs up even more, and he turns around, but quickly turns back. i turn to look where he looked, and that’s when i felt my stomach twist. 

i saw him lying on his back on a gurney. his eyes closed, and he was still wearing the same clothes as he was when i went up to my surgery. he was . . .

“chanyeol!”

i unconsciously swung my legs off the side of the bed, my hands grabbing onto the iv pole. i made my way to the exit of the hospital room, despite the nurses and yixing trying to hold me back.

“chanyeol!” i screamed, now in the hallway. i watched as they continued to take his gurney to the morgue just down that hall. “stop! please! don’t take him away from me! please!” i screeched for him, “i love you chanyeol – please don’t leave me! please! i love you so much! you’re – you’re not supposed to go first! you promised you wouldn’t leave me, too!” 

i was sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping as i made my way down the hall as fast as i could. one of the nurses stopped walking, and so did the others. i caught up to them, no longer screaming.

i look at him, reaching my hand out to his face. “why did you leave me, yeol . . . you promised me. you broke your promise, yeol . . .” i hitch my breath, “what am i supposed to tell the zoo? how am i supposed to take care of myself alone so soon? you were supposed to take care of me – you were supposed to take care of me for kyungsoo – but you broke his promise, too!” i cried out, shaking my head. “please come back to me, yeol, i’m begging you – we were supposed to get married. we were supposed to be together forever, but you left me just like everyone else. you . . . you still loved me more than anything . . . you still cared for me and loved me even after i hurt you and pushed you away . . . you made me fly high, chanyeol, but you still left me behind.”

the nurses and doctors, visitors and patients were all staring at me now, worried about me as i had a mental breakdown, sobbing in front of everyone.

“sir, we have to take him to the morgue–”

yixing placed his hand on the nurse’s shoulder, cutting her off as she became startled. “it can wait.”

yixing ushers me and them to my room. they park his gurney next to mine, and i lay down on mine, right next to him before i cuddled up against him, my head on his chest and my limbs on him slightly with my hand on his stomach where his left hand lied.

i held it, squeezing it tightly, feeling the cold emerald ring against my palm. i sniffled, still crying. yixing and the nurses left us be, and i lay there with his lifeless body, clutching his shirt, staining it with tears. 

i hitch my breath. i didn’t even realize that during my entire breakdown, i was walking. even with the help of the iv pole with wheels. i still walked. i _walked_.

it’s because of you, chanyeol.

kyungsoo. sehun.

you helped me.

you all fucking helped me.

then fucking left me behind.

i was supposed to go first. i was supposed to go first. it wasn’t fair. **_it wasn’t fair._ **

i lay there against my lover’s cold, relaxed body, crying my eyes out, feeling no heartbeats as i lay my head against his broad chest. 

and at that moment, i felt everything.

* * *

“chanyeol had a bad heart?”

yixing slowly nodded. the tip of his finger grazed the page. “he grew up with a bad heart defect, but he had a heart transplant at the age of fifteen, which caused him to skip a grade as he studied so hard and passed the exams so easily with barely any errors. but, in the last year, it had gotten worse, and there have been so many people on the transplant list that we knew he’d be dead before he’d get a heart – and sadly,” he lowered his head, “we were right.” 

i shuffle in my seat. “and he collapsed while i was in surgery?” and yixing nods.

“no one was in there with him – he had been dead for about five minutes before someone went in there to tell him you were out of surgery.” yixing explained with a frown. his chin quivered, he felt guilty for what had happened, and as i didn’t blame him for any of it, i understood why he felt such a way. “i’m so sorry, baekhyun.”

i shake my head, giving him a smile. “it’s fine. i’m just –” i let out a sigh, a large exhale, “it’s overwhelming – to say the least. i know it’s going to be different without them. i had only just gotten used to not having kyungsoo around by the day of the surgery.” i clear my throat, “it’s going to be hard without them all. but i’ll make it through.” hopefully.

yixing crosses one leg over the other. “how are you coping with their deaths?” he asks hesitantly, not wanting to upset me. 

“in all honesty,” i connect my fingers, setting them in my lap, “there hasn’t been a night where i didn’t cry myself to sleep. it’s been really rough this last week since chanyeol’s death. his spot on my bed had became as lonely as it was before i met him. kyungsoo’s room – we were planning to do a yard sale, but my proposal to chanyeol distracted us and we never got to kyungsoo’s room and cleaned it out so we could put his stuff in the basement.” i explained, “ever since he moved his room up to the upstairs, i had no idea what kyungsoo’s room looked like – and i still have no idea.” i let out a chuckle, “it’s different – cooking for myself, looking at the photos of my lover and my brother and my brother’s lover all over the walls now, in memory of the ones i loved more than anything.” i shake my head gently, “it’s going to be rough, but one day, i’ll be okay.” 

yixing gives me a somewhat warm smile. he taps his pen on the closed chart. “if you ever need me or junmyeon, don’t hesitate to give us a call, okay?” 

i nod, and i stand up. we share a quick hug before i head out of his office. i walked out, a bit of a limp as i wasn’t fully used to walking as a grown man yet. it was different when i was just a little kid, since that was the last time i had actually walked before now, but it's different as an adult. 

especially one that hasn’t walked in thirteen years. 

i get into the car and headed back home to the empty two story farm house out in the country part of seoul – and as much as i loved living there, i hated living alone.

i get out of the car, walking up the steps instead of the ramp that i used to roll down on as i sat in my wheelchair. it’s so different, even if i did walk with a slight limp from falling the other day trying to walk too fast too soon. 

but i felt fine. 

i open the front door and walk in, closing the door behind me. i stare at the silent house, my footsteps echoing throughout the corridor. my hands in my pockets, my collar unbuttoned. i sigh.

“why did you guys all have to leave so soon?”

i shook my head, trying to get myself to stay calm. even though i was alone in the two story house that kyungsoo’s grandfather built with his own two hands. knowing everyone i loved was gone, i couldn’t find a reason not to have a breakdown and let it all out now. maybe end it all, too.

but i look up, my eyes meeting the tall stairwell to the upstairs. kyungsoo’s room. 

i take a step forward, almost hesitantly, before i walk up the stairs. i approach the door, reaching my hand out to turn the doorknob. i breathe in deeply, placing my hand on the silver doorknob of kyungsoo’s door to his room that i had never even been in before today.

with a turn to the right, the door clicks and i push the door open. a loud creak – this door hadn’t been opened in months. not since the day kyungsoo passed. 

as much as i was interested, curious of what could be in his room since i’ve never been in there before, i felt like . . . i was invading his privacy.

but he was dead.

my eyelashes flutter in surprise. it was different that i had expected.

i had expected dark colored furniture, black curtains, a couple lamps, and at least two bookshelves. it was the biggest bedroom in the house with the guest bedroom just down the upstairs hallway. but, it wasn’t how i imagined it to be at all.

the bedframe was pure white, the walls were painted baby blue. the ceiling had the night sky, exactly portrayed with every exact star in its rightful place. there was an entire corner for bookshelves and a desk – his typewriter sat there collecting dust. 

i stepped forward, still looking around the room. the bedsheets were flowery and patterned with leaves and petals. the pillows were matching, it was crazy. i had never thought of kyungsoo to be this flower boy who loves to write.he was so much different than i every thought he’d be. his clothes were dark colored, he always looked so depressed and cold, even if he tried to be this bright person for me. but then again, he had the squishiest face, a heart shaped smile, a kind heart, beautiful eyes, soft skin. 

it was like his appearance and his personality were . . . contradicting each other.

a pure emo boy.

the frames on the walls were all mainly pieces of his writing, photos of me, sehun, and chanyeol, but one caught the corner of my eye as i walked past it.

i stop and look at it, and i exhaled, raising my hand and placing it against the glass. 

i feel my lips curving into a smile. 

“i miss you, yeol,” i whisper to myself, even if i was the only one left.

_i’ll always miss you, yeol._

* * *

three months passed and it’s february.

i don’t know how i’m still here.

the house was silent, not even the animals outside in the farm were making much noise, if at all. it was almost as if they were all dead. like everyone i cared about.

i had taken down all of the photos hanging on the walls and sitting on the shelves. the only photo left hanging was the one pinned to the wall next to my bed.

even though i had spent the last three months sleeping in kyungsoo’s bed, trying to feel his presence even though he’s been gone for almost seven months.

there hasn’t been a night that i didn’t dream of at least one of them. it wasn’t even something that could never happen – it was always a memory. something that had happened before. 

some nights it would be of chanyeol. during our dates outside near the large corn field, watching as the crows flew around the scarecrow in the middle of the field. we’d have picnics in the backyard, watching the sun go down as we sit on the hill, eating sandwiches and fruits that both of us loved so dearly – made by kyungsoo himself, of course. how chanyeol’s nose would scrunch up when he takes a bite of his sandwich, and how every first bite he takes, a pickle falls onto his lap.

other nights it would be sehun. random moments we actually talked or spent time together unintentionally. times where sehun waited for kyungsoo to finish getting ready for their date, where i’d be in the kitchen, eating a snack and sehun would walk in and start talking to me about things, out of boredom usually, but our talks were always nice. they usually consist of him gossiping about his subordinates at work, as he did take over his father’s newspaper company but never had the guts to fire any of his workers (who were terrible) because kyungsoo was friends with them. but sometimes, we’d have long talks about kyungsoo. it always amazed me how much sehun loved my brother. 

then on those occasional nights, maybe once every couple weeks, it would be about kyungsoo. on days chanyeol and i would have our picnics, we’d lose track of time and we’d hear kyungsoo call us for dinner, like we were two kids outside playing for hours and he was our mother. 

kyungsoo was so different than anyone i had ever seen. he was a kind man, a smart writer, a hardworking guy who loved his brother and his lover and his friends. he . . . didn’t deserve to die. 

but then again, no one can stop fate, right? 

there’s a sudden knock on the front door and i almost jump out of my seat in the living room. i put down my book and left the room, walking to the front door in the entrance corridor of the house.

i open the door, and there stands a man.

“hello,” i greet the man, “is there something you need?” 

the man had dark grubble on his face, shadowed eyes with deep eyebags.he wore a large hoodie, baggy pants. he looked ill. 

“i’m here to s-see kyungsoo.”

i let out a short gasp. i guess he didn’t know.

“oh, i’m sorry, sir,” i lower my hand on the door walling, “kyungsoo passed away back in june. i thought you would’ve heard by now – his name was in the pain, wasn’t it?” sehun’s formality surely rubbed off on me, even though chanyeol’s carefree personality kept me talking like a normal human.

the man hitches his breath, “he’s d-dead?” he stammers, and i slowly nod. “o-oh, i’m s-sorry. i’ll leave n-now.” but out of nowhere, i reach for his arm. he turns to me, confused.

“how do you know kyungsoo?” i ask the man, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

the man lets out a sigh, a small smile curving on his lips. “he was . . . my son.”

i felt my heart drop to my stomach. a feeling i hadn’t felt since i saw chanyeol’s dead body on that gurney. and if you were anyone, you’d know that feeling your heart drop, your stomach twisting, is never a good thing to feel.

“i loved him and his brother dearly, but their mother enraged me so i left after she did.” he shivers, clutching his hoodie, “i felt so horrible for leaving so suddenly, leaving his brother for him to care for after hurting him so badly for years.” the man looks back at me, “do you know where baekhyun is at least? . . . or is he gone, too?”

i wanted to hurl. 

“how about you come in and we can talk?” i didn’t want to tell him yet. i don’t know why, but i didn’t want to tell him that i was baekhyun.

i close the door behind him and he walks around a bit, looking around. “wow, this place looks really different than the last time i came here,” he walks up to one of the walls near the stairs, “who’s this?” he asks, pointing to a photo of me, sehun, chanyeol, and kyungsoo.

he seemed to recognize kyungsoo completely, as he was a 19-year-old adult when he left. but he didn’t recognize anyone else. weirdly.

“oh,” i walk over to him, seeing as he’s pointing at everyone but kyungsoo, “that’s,” i raise my hand to point, “sehun, kyungsoo’s boyfriend,” i point to chanyeol, “this is baekhyun’s boyfriend, chanyeol,” and then i point to me, “and that’s me,” i sigh, “baekhyun.”

i step back, and the man hesitantly turns to me. 

“you’re . . .” he looks me up and down in disbelief, “baekhyun?”

i nod my head, and i look myself up and down, “yeah, i can walk now. i’ve been able to since about october.” 

“of . . . last year?” and i nod again. “wow, baekhyun,” he was slightly shorter than me. he was kyungsoo’s exact height. “i’m so sorry i left you both. i wasn’t expecting . . . any of this.” he glances around, “where’s the other two? sehun and chanyeol, was it?”

my smile fades away, and i tighten my fist with saddened eyes, “oh, uh,” i gulp, clearing my throat, “sehun passed away back in august, and chanyeol passed away the night i got my surgery to walk again.” i let out a chuckle, though it was fake and full of pain and sorrow, “it’s been weird without them, but you know what? i’ve been doing better, and i’m making it through everyday.”

kyungsoo’s father hunches his shoulders. “i’m so sorry, baekhyun,” he tells me, “i wish i was here for you – i know it was shitty for leaving like i did.”

“what happened to ma?” i ignored his apology, “is she doing alright?” i slid my hands into my pockets, walking away from him slightly.

“she’s doing good,” kyungsoo’s father said with a short sigh, “better than i am.” he lets out a breathless chuckle, “i can give you her number if you like–”

“no, that’s fine.” i cut him off coldly, “i don’t really want anything to do with either of you, but here i am, right?” i scoff, “whatever,” i shake my head, “do you need anything or are you just here to talk about shit?”

he looks at me with a sad smile, “the . . . second one?”

i scoff, but i oblige.

“so who was sehun?”

“kyungsoo’s boyfriend,” i answered, crossing my legs as i sat on the counter in the kitchen. kyungsoo’s father sat at the dining table, trying to start a conversation to talk about kyungsoo and i’s life together after him and our mother left us almost nine years ago. “they were really good for each other.”

his father nods shortly, and i turn over to look at one of sehun’s photos hanging on the living room wall. “sehun was rich,” i started to say with somewhat of a firm tone, “he took over his father’s business – the seoul newspaper, since there was no one else left in his family to take over the business so sehun did.” i glance over to him, “sehun had no family, but he found family with us, and he loved kyungsoo so much – just the way he looked at him – you would know he loved kyungsoo.”

his father shifts in his seat, crossing his legs. he stays quiet, not replying.

so i continue. 

“now chanyeol, he – he was different,” i said with a small grin, “he was kyungsoo’s first real crush back in high school, but he got over him – and then kyungsoo met sehun a few years later, blah blah blah, but–” i cut myself off by chuckling, “but chanyeol – he was god’s angel.”

i kept on talking about chanyeol, maybe even for ten minutes, but i soon realized that this was nothing but a dream.

* * *

i woke up panting. i was so confused.

i shot right out of bed, and headed out of kyungsoo’s room. i ran down the stairs, grabbing my jacket even if i was wearing my pajamas, and then grabbed the keys and ran out the door.

i couldn’t stop myself – i wanted to go see dad. even if he wasn’t my real father.

i had to talk to him. nine years since i last talked to him – he left by apologizing to the person who didn’t need the apology – he left when i was in pain – stuck in a wheelchair forever.

even if that forever part was now not true, it still meant something. 

it still meant he still left when he knew i was in pain.

an almost ten year old boy’s mother and father both left the same year, just a month in between their sudden departures. 

i got into the car, slamming the door as if i was angry. i opened the glove box and took out the map, looking at it for the random marks kyungsoo had labeled on it.

“dad’s place” was labeled in red on the other side of town, so i started the car and began to drive to the destination, knowing that i needed to speak with him – even though i didn’t plan on telling him that his actual son had died – unlike i did in my dream.

it took about forty minutes to get there, and weirdly, i felt more anticipation and anxiety rise as i got closer to his place. 

i pulled up to the small driveway, parking the car. i sigh, gripping the steering wheel. “here we go,” i say as i take the keys out of the ignition and get out of the car.

i close the car door, and head to the front porch. there were little cars and toys on the front porch. i worried i had the wrong address.

with a deep inhale, i knock on the door. 

“maybe they’re not home,” i begin to say after a few moments of no answer, so i turn to leave, but then the front door opens suddenly. i turn back around and see a man standing there. 

a clean face with thin eyes, a good build with a slight gut as he stood there with his hand on the doorknob with the other hand on the door walling.

“can i help you?”

i feel shivers go down my spine. 

i clear my throat, “are you kim jongin?” 

the man nods, “yes, i am. who are you?” he takes one hand and slides it into his pocket.

i give him an uneven smile, “it’s me,” i watch his head tilt to the left, “baekhyun.”

his eyes become large, just like kyungsoo’s always did, and he laughs, “oh my god – baek, i – i didn’t even recognize you! – you look – you’re – you’re walking.”

he was taken back, and i chuckled.

“i’ve been able to walk since about october,” i said, my eyes crinkling, “i just wanted to come see you.”

jongin ushers for me to come in, and i oblige. 

i walk in, looking around. the house was clean, but there were toys and photos of kids everywhere. and the ring on his finger – he must’ve remarried.

“wow,” i point to one of the photos sitting on the table in the living room against the wall, “you’ve got more kids,” i chuckle awkwardly. 

“yeah,” he slid both of his hands into his pockets, “i got remarried to my new wife a couple years back. actually me and your mom still keep in touch. ironic, right?” he was trying to ease the mood, but i didn’t care.

“i’m just glad you’re happy, dad,” i told him.

i sit down on one of the chairs in the living room, a little girl sits on the couch, quiet. she was reading a book, and i leaned over as jongin stood against the doorway.

“hi, whatchu reading?” 

the girl flips the page, “autumn brown.” she answered with her soft voice – but that didn’t shock me.

it was the fact a little girl, maybe 5 years old, was reading a book kyungsoo had written.

it was about a boy who grew up loving autumn, and how everything he does, he was criticized for it – but he learned how to move past that and ignore the mean remarks people made towards him over the years.

it was a coming of age story – a story i believed was based on either me or kyungsoo. but it could be both.

“autumn brown, huh?” i raise my eyebrow, “did you know i’m brothers with the author?”

the little girl perks her head up. “you’re brothers with the author?” she asks. 

i nod my head, “yeah, but he’s–” i stop talking when i remember jongin was standing there, so i gulp, “he’s in another country right now, but i’ll try to see if i can get him to visit to meet you.” i give her a smile.

“really?” she asks. she was so happy.

i nod at her again, “of course, i’ll give him a call this afternoon when i get back home,” my anxiety had disappeared by now – it was the little girl that calmed me down. just her sitting there, reading kyungsoo’s book with her light brown hair and small round glasses – it reminded me so much of kyungsoo. 

and that made me miss him even more.

she smiles back, “okay!” and she slides off the couch, running into the other room happily. 

jongin walks over to a chair and takes a seat. “that was areum. she’s a darling, ain’t she?” 

i nod, “i have to admit, she’s adorable.”

jongin clicks his tongue, “you still live at the farm?” and i nod my head. “how are the animals doing?”

weirdly he hasn’t asked about kyungsoo yet, but then again, i had a feeling he already knew about him.

“they’re doing great,” i tell him, “i actually have a pet chicken – his name is coup.” 

“like chicken coup?” jongin cackles, “i like it.”

after a few minutes of chatting, jongin suddenly frowns, clearing his throat as he leans over a bit, “i heard about kyungsoo.” _i was right._

“what about him?” i let out a dark chuckle, “that he’s dead? and has been dead for almost a year?” i felt like throwing something – anger was fueling up.

“baek–”

“look – it’s fine, i don’t care.” i cut him off, “i just wish you would’ve called or visited.” i then scoff at my own words, “hell – i wish you would’ve called or visited in the last nine years but you never did.”

jongin’s face goes pale. “i’m sorry, baek, i,” he hitches his breath, “i hope you had someone with you after such a tragedy . . . i’m so sorry for not being there.”

i actually smile, “i had someone. and kyungsoo did, too.” i chuckle, “you know oh enterprises? the family who owns a couple businesses? – kyungsoo was dating the ceo, the only person left in the family.” i look over to jongin, “sehun died almost two months after kyungsoo.”

i sigh, “but i have someone. chanyeol.” i grin to myself, lowering my head a bit, “the love of my life, the man i want to spend the rest of my life with – he’s almost the entire opposite of me. he’s caring and funny, loud and charismatic. he’s an animal lover, and he takes care of me so much. i’m glad i have him in my life.” 

_had_ him in my life.

jongin smiles at my words, “i’m really glad, baekhyun. i’m really proud of you, baekhyun.” he stands up and i do, too. he approaches me and pulls me into a tight hug, “i love you so much, baekhyun, i’m so sorry i left yo and kyungsoo. i am so sorry. i will always be sorry.”

i hug him back just as tight. i feel tears forming in the corner of my eyes as i choke up a bit while i spoke.

“please don’t leave me again, dad.”

* * *

it’s now been ten years since their deaths.

a long, lonely decade it was without them. and the entire time, i constantly wondered how i was even still here. by now, i had sold almost every piece of furniture except anything in kyungsoo’s bedroom where i made my own as it was the only place i would actually sleep.

i didn’t know the exact reason why i couldn’t sleep in my own bed anymore, but i thought it was because of the fact that chanyeol and i shared that bed, and i can only sleep in kyungsoo’s because i had never slept in it while he was alive. hell, i had never even been in there before kyungsoo died. 

i walked down the steps, the walls empty just like most of the house. i head into the kitchen, and my eyes – they begin to see someone standing there, a colorful, misty figure – a hallucination.

it was chanyeol. he had his apron on, tied behind his back tightly so it wouldn’t fall. his strong biceps and even stronger build was something to definitely be fond of, and i felt my knees become weak as i approached him – the misty figure. 

but as i reached out to touch him, i could hold onto him. it was like he was really there. his body turned to me and i can see his smile. 

“hi,” his voice was still as soothing as it always was. it echoed a bit, but that didn’t matter to me at all, i just held onto him and never wanted to let go. i wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him closer to me, and i could feel his hands place themselves on my waist. “you alright, baekie? you seem off,” he says softly.

i smile, “i’m okay,” i clutch the shirt on his back, “i’m just glad i’m here with you,” even if he wasn’t really there. 

i continue to stand there, hugging him as he swung me from side to side gently and slowly. “i just finished the dishes,” chanyeol said as he pulled back slightly, “could you go ask kyungsoo what he’d like for dinner?” i tilt my head in confusion.

“you’re cooking?” i mumble.

“yeah,” he nods with a grin, “it’s thursday, remember?” oh right, it’s thursday. the day kyungsoo doesn’t cook. “before you go get kyungsoo, could you get sehun for me? he’s in the living room, if i’m not wrong.” chanyeol tells me before i nod in response. 

he smiles at me, and he kisses my forehead. “hurry – i need his help with the car out back.”

“what about kyungsoo?”

“oh, that can wait until after you get sehun – i’m not going to start cooking right now anyways. it’s only two-forty.” right. 

i nod, “sure, i’ll be right back.” and i head out of the room, leaving the misty figure of my fiance in the kitchen alone, as i head to the living room – to find no one in there.

i thin my lips, “hm,” i hum as i look through the house. i walk out the front door, and that’s when i see sehun from the corner of my eye, riding one of the horses up near the front porch.

i step forward, heading down the porch in the direction the much older man was. his figure was misty just like chanyeol’s, but he wore darker colors so the mist was less colorful unlike chanyeol back in the kitchen, wearing that blinding tie-dye apron of his.

“sehun!” i call out, waving slightly at him. he perks his chin up, holding the rope to the horse’s halter. he gives me a great big smile, and he waves back at me.

“ah, baekhyun! you need something?” he asks.

i nod, crossing my arms and placing them on the railing of the porch, leaning over a bit as sehun sat on the horse right next to the porch, exactly in front of me. “chanyeol needs help with the car outback,” though i knew nothing about what he meant by that, “you free right now?”

sehun gives me a short nod, “yes, just a moment. i must get jongdae back to the barn before so.” he told me, and i smiled.

“cool,” and as i turn to leave, sehun furrows his eyebrows and calls out to me.

“baekhyun,” he calls out, and i turn around to look at him again. his joyful expression had now changed to a saddened one – one that i had seen far too many times. 

“yes?” i reply with a bit of concern. 

sehun gives me a curving grin, a sad smile even, and he lets out a quick sigh, “take care of yourself, alright?” and he raised the lassell and lightly kicked the horse with the back of his heel before he left and took jongdae, the only horse we had left. 

i stand there with confusion, but i shake it off as i head back to the front door and crack it open. “chanyeol!” i call out to him, “sehun’s taking jongdae back to the barn and he’ll be outback for the car right after!”

i hear chanyeol call out ‘okay, thank you!’ before i close the door behind me. now all that was left to do was to go ask kyungsoo what he wanted for dinner on the one night he doesn’t cook.

i head out to the field, knowing kyungsoo had his own hang out spot out there like always. 

it takes a bit to get down there, maybe a five minute walk at most. it was halfway down the long driveway, and then you took a left to the large green field with irises and daisies everywhere. 

there was a gazebo, built with white painted wood and black tiles for the roof of it. it was decorated in vines and whites roses – how much chanyeol begged for it to be decorated in those beautiful flowers. 

in the gazebo, sat my twenty seven year old brother, reading a book with his legs crossed, a cup of coffee on the table next to him as the fairy lights inside glowed and shimmered even if it was still bright outside at only three in the afternoon. 

kyungsoo looks up from his book as i step into the gazebo. his cheeks squish as he smiles, “hey, baekhyun – what’s up?” he greets me with that deep voice of his.

i chuckle, sitting down on the other seat. “just wanted to come see what you were up to,” i answered him, “and um, chanyeol wanted me to ask you,” i look him up and down, he didn’t look misty, or see-through, or anything like that – i felt my heart and stomach twist and turn inside me, “what you wanted for dinner, since you’re not cooking tonight?”

kyungsoo lets out a chortle, “oh, um,” he thinks for a moment, “now that i think about it, i think i’d let spaghetti tonight,” he said. he looks back to his book, and forgets i’m still there.

“alright,” i say as i stand up, “thanks,” and i turn to leave but i hear a creak from his seat in that white gazebo. i look back at him and he’s staring at me. those large round eyes staring at me. 

“you know we’re not here, right?”

i make a weird noise, my jaw dropping a bit as i stand there in shock. “i – i–” i couldn’t form words correctly – what he said completely took me by surprise.

kyungsoo lowers his head, smiling to himself. he stands up, closing his book as he approaches me. he looks slightly up to me, and places his hand on my cheek. 

“i’ll meet you there,” and he walks out of the gazebo, down the steps, still holding his book – _where the wind blows at sunrise_ – and he disappears into thin air.

i walk out of the gazebo, and the setting changes. 

i was still right outside the gazebo, but it was now pouring down rain. i turned to the tree near the gazebo, the one that always gave it shade, and there were three tombstones. 

sehun. kyungsoo. chanyeol.

sehun. kyungsoo. chanyeol.

those names won’t leave my mind.

they won’t leave me alone.

they won’t GO AWAY!

for the last ten years i’ve spent here alone in this stupid farm house that my dead brother’s grandfather built – i’m not even related to him at all! and i’m still here. i’m still here! 

I’M STILL FUCKING HERE!

but now, i knew.

it was my time.

as i returned to the house, soaked from the storm outside the house, my shoes making weird, squishing noises as the fabric is so soaked from the rain, i could feel water around my feet.

i walked into the kitchen. no chanyeol. i looked into the living room. no sehun. i looked upstairs into the bedroom. no kyungsoo.

they were all gone.

they were all gone.

they were all dead.

dead. dead. dead.

i . . . hated it.

but knowing how much i meant to them. how much they loved me. how much they cared for me. it made me feel warm – they want me to live, be happy again – meet new people.

sure i reunited with kyungsoo’s dad. 

but all that did was make me lie to his new daughter about meeting my dead brother and then lie to jongin about how chanyeol was still alive when he was the exact opposite.

god-fucking-dammit.

i want to blame them for this so bad.

i really fucking do.

it’s been ten years and i’m still stuck in denial.

he tells me he loves me, but lies to me about his heart condition.

he tells me he cares about me, but dies out of fucking nowhere.

he tells me he wants to live, but dies just a week later.

i wish i had a better life.

maybe in a different life – my next life – things will be better, right?

maybe.

but there’s only one way i can find out. right?

as i sit here, finishing this long story of how much pain and sorrow i went through just because i met you – not one part of me regrets it. because i still love you.

i still remember the last time i saw your smile, yeol.

i’ll see you soon.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> \- please look for my comment (starts with “i hope you all see this”) if you’d like to read the certain details that are CANON in this story!


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